Those Of Us Left
by VioletW
Summary: Either you hang on to your morals and die, or you do whatever it takes to survive. - Naomi and Emily, brought together by harsh circumstances, must survive a brutal journey across the UK in a terrifying, post-apocalyptic world. SPOILER - This story follows the videogame 'The Last of Us'. Do not read if you have not completed, and intend to complete the videogame.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own skins or rights to The Last of Us. I do own the game, but that's about it. **

'

'

I fell asleep on the couch at some point, waiting for Gina to come home from work. She's raised me alone, since my dad fucked off long ago. Today wasn't any different from any other day, I went to school, avoided my sticky classmates, and ate lunch alone. My reason for being asleep on the couch, and not in my big comfy bed? It was Gina's birthday today, and I let the soppy loon in me take over; I bought her a present and was so excited about it that I did my best to stay awake. She's working later than usual lately, she got laid off from her day job so this week, she wakes up late and works late. I don't exactly hear her come home, but when she turns on the light and I hear her talking on the phone, I suddenly wake. She is talking to Kieran, I am sure of it. They work together and he is her boss of sorts, and she sounds stressed.

"I can't loose this job, Kieran... Yes I know... Look, let's talk about this in the morning okay? Yeah, goodnight." She drops her cellphone down on the table as I stir awake, and I greet her tiredly as I raise myself up off the couch so she can sit.

"Hey mom" I yawn.

"Hey monkey" She greets back, sitting down on the couch where I was once dreaming on.

"So, interesting day at work, hey?" I joke, trying my best to lighten the mood.

She sighs, shakes her head, and decides to take the motherly approach to my question. "Why are you still awake? You should be in bed, you have school in the morning."

_Shit!_ I jump up off the sofa and check the clock behind me above the couch, and see there is still fifteen minutes left before midnight. _Yes! it's still her birthday. _

I quickly scurry over to the other side of the couch where I stashed my present, and neatly place it in my mother's lap; wiping the top of it clean as I do so. "Here" I say "Did you forget it was your birthday today? So, you're like, 80 now right?"

She gives me one of her famous Campbell eye rolls and a dissaproving nod in my direction, before carefully examining the box. She opens it slowly, and I explain my present choice as she does so.

"You were so upset when you lost your necklace, so I bought you another one. Here" I reach out, "Let me put it on for you." I take the necklace out of the box and lock it up behind her neck, and sit back. She is holding the pendant now, it's a gold locket with a tall sailing ship engraved on the front of it. As she examines it, I'm ashamed to say I get impatient as I click my fingers on my kneecap.

"Open it!" I say excitedly after a few moments, and she obeys. Opening it slowly, she reveals a picture of her and I together at a carnival last year. It was my 10th birthday and we had multi-colored candy floss in our teeth, smiling into the camera like two crazies. But I know it's her favourite picture, it's mine too.

She looks taken aback by the gift, and hasn't seemed to have found the words she is searching for. She looks up at me, and I guess she decides to go the cheeky route instead of sentimental. _No wonder I'm concidered the 'Ice Queen' at such a young age. _

"Where on earth did you get the money for this, love? Are you a drug dealer?"

I scoff. "Yup. Sold crack to all my classmates in the playground today, made a fortune!" I reply back.

"Good" She leans back into the sofa, flipping on the telly as she does so. "You can start helping out with the mortgage then." She ruffles my hair and I frown playfully at her, as I place my head in her lap. She starts to rub my scalp, and places a gentle kiss on my temple.

At some point during the night, I fell asleep again. I remember a littly hazy bit where my mom carried me upstairs to bed, but not much after that.

'

'

I wake with a start, the phone is ringing. I check the clock, _2:30am_. Who the hell is calling at this time of night? I answer the phone, a little too groggy for my liking, and am greeted on the other end of the phone by a frantic sounding Kieran. "Love? Where's you mum! I need to speak-" _Click_. The line goes dead, and I can't seem to get a dial tone. _What the hell is going on?_

"Mom?" I shout out into the room, but there's no answer. So, I place the phone on my nightstand, swing my legs over the side of the bed and start looking for my mom. The light of the telly is on in her room, so I walk down the hallway and into her room. I open the door, and find it unoccupied. The covers on her bed are strewn all over the mattress and the floor, and there is an empty glass of wine on her nightstand. There is some news feed flashing about on the screen, and before I have a chance to figure out what it is reporting on, I see a huge ball of light explode outside the window and a loud rumbling sound echo through the night. "What the fuck? MOM!" I yell again, and when I am greeted with more silence I decide to sprint around the house to try and find her.

"Mom!" I yell.

"MOM!" I pad quickly down the stairs, grazing my hand on the picture frames hanging on the wall as I do so. I make my way to the bottom step, into the foyer, and rummage around in the kitchen. I look past the kitchen table, and I see her office door is open, and so is the sliding glass door leading outside. I inch my way slowly through the office doors, when I see Gina dash back into the house, lock the door, and jump back from it.

"Mom?" I ask. She looks at me, fear evident in her face. "Naomi!" She bellows. "Get away from the doors and windo-" She is cut off mid-sentence by on of our neighbours slamming against the glass of the back door. It's Charlie from next door, but something is wrong. He looks bloody and is slamming against the glass, trying to get in. I hear his blood curdling screams rattle the door, and some of his teeth are missing.

"Mom? What's wrong with Charlie?" I ask, I'm bloody terrified.

"Naomi, get-"

Charlie smashes through the glass and my mom pulls out a gun from her belt. _When did we get a gun?_ "Get back Charlie!" She shouts. "Charlie! I said get back!" In a matter of seconds, he launches himself at her and she pulls the trigger. BANG! BANG! He drops to the floor. The volume of those gunshots is only mirrored by my screams of terror.

"Mom" I squeak "You... you shot Charlie..."

She grabs my shoulders "Naomi, listen to me. Something bad is happening, we have to get out of here, now. Do you understand?" I nod frantically at her, and she grabs my hand and leads us outside to the front door where Kieran is waiting with his car running. We get in the car and he speeds away, my mom and him talking in the front while I shift my gaze in any and every direction in the back seat. There are flats on fire, houses ripped apart, and people running and screaming everywhere. I hear sirens and see flashing lights in every direction that I look, and as Kieran maneuvers around a collapsed double decker bus, I see there are people climbing out of the wreckage. "What the hell is going on!" I croak.

"Naomi, don't look outside, okay?" Kieran says quickly. "You don't need to see-"

"Kieran!" my mom cuts him off.

"Shit!" he yelps, as he swerves to miss a predestrian. We stop in the middle of the road, turn around, and see the man we just missed get tacked to the ground by another man who then starts to... eat him? Holy fucking shit, he's ripping that guy apart!

"Mom!" I scream.

"Drive, Kieran!" My mom yells. And he does, speeding down a side street with hundreds of people occupying it.

"Get passed them" my mom orders.

"How am I supposed to do that, Gina? They're fucking everywhere!"

"Just keep fucking driving!" My mom screams. I see bright lights to my left then, and I almost manage to scream 'look out!' before we are slammed.

'

'

I awake to my mom shaking me to get up, and I am in complete and utter agony. There is chaos booming around me, and my leg feels like it's broken. My mom senses my displeasure, and pulls me out of the upturned car as quickly and as gently as she can. I yelp in pain, and she tries to soothe me. "I know baby, but we have to go, come on" She pulls me out and I do my best to stand up straight, but I can't manage any pressure on my right leg.

"It's broken, I think." I manage to speak through my sobs of anguish.

"Okay baby" she says, before scooping me up in her arms and giving Kieran the gun.

"Protect us!" She orders.

They run through the streets, there is fire and screaming people everywhere. I can see some of those crazed people chasing, hunting others. They tackle someone to the ground behind us and start gnawing on their necks like ravenous wolves, and I am utterly petrified. Mom carries me through the streets while Kieran fires off round after round, at crazies that got too close. We turn a corner, and there are two of them charging towards us. Kieran fires one shot, and kills one of them. He goes to shoot again, but the gun clicks; indicating there are no bullets left. He quickly looks at me and my mom for one last time, before launching himself at the hungry frantic monster charging us.

"Run! Towards the highway..."He is struggling with the man now.

"GO!" He screams.

My mom carries me and runs with all her might, and there are three of those... things, chasing us now. She is getting closer and closer to our destination, breathing fast and heavy. I can feel her heart beating out of her chest as she dashes. _Adrenaline is a crazy thing._

Suddenly there is light flashing in our face and shots are fired off, killing our hunters. My mom shields me from the bullets by turning her back towards the gunfire, and when it ceases; we turn around again. There is a man standing guard, in millitary gear and a big gun with a flashlight attached to it. He is wearing a face mask, and my mom yells to him. "Hey! We need help!"

As she sprints towards him, the soldier aims at us and yells "Stop right there!" My mom stops dead in her tracks then, still pleading with the man.

"Look son, we've just been through hell..." His demeanour hasn't changed.

"We're not sick!" She shouts angrily.

I hear him talk into his radio then, and I can hear stress in his voice. "But sir, there is a little girl..."

We stand there, not sure of what to do next, and he starts to raise his weapon again. My mom realizes something that I don't in that moment, because just as the soldier starts firing off round after round at us, my mom turns around to shield me as I scream in terror. We go flying down the slight hill, and land in opposite sides of a patch of grass. I see him walk right up to my mom, and she has her arm outstreched to him; begging for him to stop. There is a pool of blood soaking through her shirt at her torso, and I'm frozen. I'm watching the sight unfold before me and I plead with any God in the sky to wake me from this nightmare. Someone, anyone, make this a bad dream. Am I about to witness my mother's murder? And in that second, she turns her head to me, arm still outstreched in front of her, and mouths the words 'I love you' to me before a bright spark and a loud BANG!

She is shot dead.

"Mom! No!" I scream. _Why the fuck is this happening? What have I done? I'm only 11 years old for fuck sake! What did Gina ever do to anybody except open her home to those in need?_

The soldier looks over at me then, and starts to walk over to me, his reticle aimed at my head. My whole life flashes across my eyes in that moment, and it's the sound of gunfire that snaps me out of it. The soldier falls limply to the ground, and I see Kieran standing over me; his arm still firmly in the air. "Naomi" He breathes, and pulls me up off the ground. "Come on dear, we have to go."

He looks over at my mom now, lying on the ground with a fine coating of blood pooling around her lifeless body. I see his eyes start to well up with tears, as he urges me forward. I tell him to wait, as I limp over to my mothers' lifeless body. I am sobbing hysterically now, but I know we have to go. So I place a soft kiss on her forehead, and tell her that I love her. As we're leaving, I see her necklace strewn across the dirt a little ways away from where we fell.

I reach down and fasten it around my neck.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2 of my little slice of hell, I hope you're enjoying it so far. I'm getting quite a lot of joy out of this to be honest, letting my inner hopelessly lost and angry soul out for those of you reading. A big shout out and massive thanks to those friends of mine who are reading my story, who are also loyal followers of my other fic, Love isn't always easy. I love you guys, and thank you for your continued support. It's all for you, darlings. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own Skins, I just borrowed the characters. I do not own the rights to The Last of Us, I just borrowed their story. Oh, and purchased a copy of their game. **

RADIO_ BROADCASTS: _

_The number of confirmed deaths has reached into the millions... The President of the United States has declared a state of emergency... "There were, bodies... lining the streets..."... Panic spread worldwide, as a leaked report from the World Health Organization showed that the latest vaccination tests have failed... Reports suggest many countries are placing their remaining citizens under the care of Martial Law... All residents are required to report to their designated quarantine zones... Riots have continued for the sixth consecutive day as food and medical rations hit an all time low... A group calling themselves The Butterflies, have claimed responsibility for the latest attacks... Their public charter calls for the return of all branches of government... Demonstrations broke out following the public execution of four more alleged members of the Butterflies... 'Rise with us. Remember, when you are lost in the blankness, look for the glimmer of color... Believe in the Butterflies.'_

_'_

_'_

_SUMMER: 16 YEARS LATER._

I wake with a start, and am drenched in sweat from head to toe. My over-worn ripped and faded green and brown plaid shirt smells of something; and it ain't roses. I had the dream again, the one where I'm standing over my mother's corpse and she starts to wake, biting into the air and rising to her feet with the sound of her bones cracking and snapping with each movement she makes. It never fails, I dream about her almost every night. No matter how far I run, no matter how many things I've seen, no matter what I've done; I still see her. I still dream about her, about that night. I catch my breath, I must have been holding it for some time while I slept. I stretch my sore limbs and creak my back as I sit on the edge of the dirt stained mattress I call a bed; and move my neck from side to side to get the kink out. I look down at my legs, and I see another rip forming in the knee of my jeans._ I'll have to find some duct tape at one of the trading stations later_. I saunter out of bed, and make my way silently into the kitchen, where my breakfast of champions awaits. I pour myself a glass of the finest home-grown whisky on the market out here and shoot it back into my stomach in one swift motion. I've become a pro at this over the last decade. As I close my eyes and relish in the warm, tingling feeling of the liquor coating the back of my throat, there is a quiet knock at the door; shortly followed by another louder one when I pour myself another glass.

"I'm coming." I half groan, half shout, and down my shot before walking to the front door and letting my visitor in. I open the door, and immediately turn around and walk back into my flat; unknowingly aware to my visitor of their presence.

"Oi, nice to see you too Blondie. How's_ your_ mornin'?" He walks right up to my table and pours himself a glass of my whiskey, before downing it the same as I did while wiping his mouth on the back of his hand.

"What happened to your face, James." I ask dryly. I noticed it when he walked in, a great big shiner under his right eye. He smirks, shakes his head, and pours himself another shot before responding "Ain't nothin' babes. Just got into a little tussle is all"

"Where _were _you, James."

"West End District." He replies coolly.

"West End?! We were supposed to go toget-"

"_We_, had a drop to make" He cuts in. "And, I specifically remember you sayin' you wanted 'be left alone."

I shake my head at him and walk over to the sink, dab the cleanest rag I have into some water, and hand it over to him. He takes it from me, devoid of eye contact, and places it over his bleeding cheek. I pace around the flat, trying to calm my nerves. This is the second time this week that he has made a drop without me, and this time he returns looking like he got jumped by a fucking Rhino. We're supposed to stick together. That's how you survive out here, skill and teamwork. That's how it's always been with us. And when he goes off on these little martyr missions, he puts us and our business at risk.

"So" I begin, after taking a moment to inhale a long breath. "Give me one guess, the deal went tits up and the client made off with our merchandise?" I hear him let out an exceptionally annoyed and condescending laugh.

"Deal went off without a problem, babes. We have enough ration cards 'ere to last us months, easy." He opens his arms out wide, as if trying to make his point clearer.

"Explain the eye then." I say, unfazed by his recent attempt at one-upping me.

He sighs, and does as I order, explaining "I's on my way back 'ere, 'n I got jumped by a couple'a fookin cocks, alright? Got a good hit in yeah, but that's 'bout it."

This upsets me, seeing my best... seeing my... seeing Cook hurt like this. But I don't show it, I can't show it. So instead, I let out a pissed off sounding sigh, as I snatch up the wet rag from him and press it against his cheek; carefully dabbing the blood away.

"Did you find out who they were?" I say, in between a few quick dabs and examining looks.

"They were a couple'a fuckers, look." He resists now, pulling away from me and the wet cloth pressed firmly against his cheek.

"The point is babes, they were sent, yeah?"

"By fucking who!" I screech.

"You know bloody well,_ who;_ Blondie. Fookin Mandy."

I look at him in utter disbelief. Mandy has been on our smugglers team for almost two years now. She is quite useful, being fluent in a few different languages so when we do deals with foreigners, we have our own personal translator.

"Our Mandy?" I ask foolishly. Cook decides not to reply to my stupidity, and instead says:

"She knows we're comin, luv. Prolly finks she's gonna get us first so-"

"I don't fucking believe this!" I shout, throwing the cloth down into the sink forcefully.

After she ripped us off on our last deal, she is hardly the one who has the right to send people after us. She'd still be in the trafficking ring if it wasn't for Cook. She was another one of our jobs way back when, and Cook had to deliver her to some slum lord in the projects who bought her for 5 ration cards. The guy was a creep, and Mandy wasn't his only... piece of property; if you catch my meaning. So Cook decided to spring the girls from their cells, let Mandy free, and go after said slum boss. It wasn't an easy feat, the guy was well guarded. But, of course, when Cook and I are together; we can do anything. We wiped him and his moody good-for-nothing henchmen out in under 10 minutes, luckily for us he wasn't much of an asset to the bigger groups; or we would be dead right now. After we cleared the place out, Mandy had stayed behind, pleading with us to let her join our little black market family, begging Cook and I saying she could be of use to us. Apparently she had no where to go, no home to find, no family left. Such is the case for everyone left on this godforsaken planet. But, Cook being the big softy that I know him to be, convinced me that her skills with language could be of some use. And they were, that much I admit. But the whole time we did deals together she was making her own on the side, cutting into our profit margin. With Cook and I, there is no need for that. We do even splits, and take care of our own. So the fact that Mandy was doing it, made our blood boil to the point of evaporation.

Cook walks over to me then, and places a firm grip on my shoulders.

"I know where she's at, babes." He half whispers into my ear.

"Fuck that, you do." I argue. She is smart, and as sneaky as a snake. You sure as hell can't find her if she doesn't want to be found; I know that much.

"Old warehouse, Section 37" He replies confidently.

The blood in my veins runs hot then, my body is on fire. She has the fucking nerve to try and hurt Cook? Or worse, kill him? I'm putting an end to this right now.

"I'm ready now." I spit at him. He sends me a sly smirk before making his way to the door. "Oh, I'm wiv ya on that, luv."

'

'

We make our hasty exit from my flat, and walk down the streets towards our stash house. It's guarded by a few of our men, and it's well hidden from any military personnel. We don't have to ask around much, people will do just about anything for one or two of those ration cards. As we mingle around, getting more and more answers that we need to point us in the right direction to Mandy, I notice some guards pushing out some civilians out onto the road. They make the people get down on their knees and place their hands behind their heads, as the soldiers scan each person one by one.

"More and more of 'em are getting sick." Cook starts.

"More and more of them are leaving the zones." I reply dryly.

"Yeah well, can't blame 'em can ya? 'Tis fookin boring here, nuffin' to do or see. Remember when you could just go out and sit in the grass, kiss a pretty girl under a tree on top of a blanket?"

Cook's memory is much more vivid than mine, not only because he is a few years older, but because he lived a wider life than I did. He's told me stories, of all the parties he had gone to, all the girls he had shagged in various places throughout the UK, he told me how he rode a motorcycle once, and drove a car many times before. I can't help but feel envious of him, because I never got to do those things. I don't know what it would be like to go to a party, I've never had a chance to even kiss a pretty girl. In this world, there is no place for romance. I've never known the feeling of riding free on a motorcycle, and I had only driven a car once because my mom was drunk and couldn't drive home. Hardly the glamorous life compared to the one owned by James Cook.

As we walk by I hear one of the guards' scanners beep positive for the infected, and a man starts screaming. I turn, and the man has risen to his feet and is about to make a mad dash before a soldier behind him quickly draws his side arm and puts a bullet into the back of the guy's head. I wince at the site, I've never been much for the explosive reaction of the skull when a bullet enters it.

I'm brought out of my thoughts a few minutes and side alleyways later by a group of guys, clearly some of Mandy's thugs, hollering in our direction.

"Let us through." I speak as confidently as I can.

"You need to turn around, if you know what's good for you."

Cook pipes in. "Eh, mate. Our beef ain't wiv you, yeah? We just wanna talk to Mandy."

The man takes a few more intimidating steps closer to us, before replying harshly:

"Turn the fuck around, _boy_. Leave, now."

Cook balls his fists in anger, before replying sharply "We ain't goin' anywhere wiv out Mandy, you get me?"

"You little punk!" The man spits, his two friends advancing on us now from behind him as he bellows out at us like a chimp on steroids. "Get the fuck outta here before I bash you're little girlfriend's skull in!"

Cook laughs profusely at this, and replies to the guy, his voice dripping with sarcasm "Ain't no man gonna make Naomikins here feel alright, even if they stapled their tongue to her clit and stood on a cement mixer!"

The guy looks at me then, goes to say a snide remark when I've lost all my patience.

"Fuck this." I snap, and pull out my side arm.

BANG! BANG!

I shoot buddy square in the face. _Good luck with that open casket, bitch._ The man's henchmen go to draw their weapons, but Cook is too quick. Another two shots are fired, and the boys drop like flies. He and I slide our guns back into their holsters at the same time, and I slip my arm into his as we start walking again.

"Mandy" Cook smirks, a toothy grin plastered on his face. " 'Ere we come, darlin'."

**Mandy is so in for it, just sayin. Thank you for reading, please feel free to review. Those of you who know me, know how much I love reviews. **

**xoV**


	3. Chapter 3

**Alright, some people liking this so far eh? I'm really glad, though it's tough. I have to go to a dark place when I write this story and I can't seem to shake it if I write during the day. So I write at night, which is no better because I'm exhausted. Anyway, Chap 3 for you. As always, love you guys, and to Guest - I hope I've given you what you asked for. **

"Shh! To you're left, Blondie!" Cook whispers.

Cook is a little ways up from me, crouched behind some old blocks of wood. I, on the other hand, am pressed flat against a big piece of sheet metal. Needless to say those sad excuses for guards that we took out earlier caused us a few problems, because their radio silence has alerted the rest of the cavalry. A few guards are huddled around the doors to the wearhouse, scanning and surveying the area. We managed to get inside undetected through an open window at the back, but now we're out in the open; and easy targets. Cook was right, there is a guard slowly getting closer and closer to me as the hands of the clock tick, tick away. With each passing second I can hear his breath with more clarity.

It's in these moments that we become truely human, fight or flight has nothing to do with it now. You either kill or die, and eventually your morals fade away as distant memories. There's no going back to the way it was before, there's no room for love. No room for family, no time for smiling. This world is as stained as the people occupying it, and if the utter filth of it doesn't send you reeling; the stench will. There's no escaping that sour smell of rot. And it's not just the bodies lining the streets that cause this. It's the lack of upkeep, the overgrown grass, the weeds; pollen the size of golf balls. I learned quickly that you either become ugly so you blend in, or you keep true to yourself and let the fate of hell take you over. I've smuggled drugs, weapons, people; children. And it's kept me safe, it's kept me on the other side of those cages. The me I was before all of this, the person I know I was; my mother would be ashamed. I reach a hand up to my neck where that necklace still rests and trace my thumb over the engraving of that ship, and it somehow soothes me; like one day I can sail away on one of those tall ships and be free.

I bend down, bracing myself for what is about to come, while quietly pulling out one of my famous Campbell home-made shivs. I can hear his boots now, thudding away on the ground as he walks. I can tell, by the sound they make, that they are at least two sizes too big; but that's the beauty of the world we live in. He is wearing clown boots, and I am wearing an oversized, men's plaid western shirt. Sexy, right?

He's close now, I can almost hear the sweat dripping from his brow hit the floor mere metres from where I'm crouched. Any second now.

Twig snap.

Exhale.

Move.

I jump out from my perch and his back is to me. Before he has time to react, I reach one arm around his shoulders to cover his mouth with my hand, pinch his nose together with my thumb, and use my other hand to sink my shiv into the side of his neck. Instantly, I feel warm liquid eminationg from where I have jammed the blade, and as he struggles in my arms I force him back with me behind the cover of the metal. His struggles start to dissipate in strength as he looses blood, and as I keep the blade pressed firmly in his neck, I start to lower him to the ground. After what seems like an eternity, he takes his last breath in my arms, and his body goes limp. I struggle a little with pulling my blade out, I must have jammed it pretty deep. I pull out the blade, feeling the moment must be simmilar to the story of Excalibur, and push his limp body off of my lap and onto the ground. I look up to where Cook once was, and I see the form of him has been replaced with the lifeless body of a guy in a ski mask and a shirt that is way too short at the midrift. _How do you even keep that kind of weight on anymore?_

There is one guard left now, and I see Cook sneaking up behind the guy like a bloody Ninja. If there is one thing in this world James Cook is better at then smuggling, it's killing. I turn my attention to our surroundings, and look for somewhere plausable that Mandy might be hiding. I hear a loud SNAP! sound from behind me, which I can only imagine was that guy's neck, and my eyes fall to a door that has the sign 'Office Manager' next to it._ If there's anywhere she would be, it's in there, _I think to myself.

I risk a glance over my shoulder, and I see Cook wringing out his hands harshly, what I assume is his way of getting the soreness out.

"There" I nod towards the door. "That must be it."

He focuses his attention to the door, and glances back at me with a smile. "Let's check it out then, babes."

I instinctively pull out my side arm and walk silently towards the door, and press my side against it's frame. I press my ear to the door and strain my hearing, but I can't seem to pick up on any movement. I look to Cook then, who is awaiting further instruction, and I stand back from the door. I hold up my gun, and nod for him to go ahead. He leans back, takes a deep breath, and smashes the door open with a swift and heavy kick.

"Christ!" She yells.

Papers have exploded everywhere, she must have been doing some book keeping before we startled the fuck out of her. I enter the doorway, and aim my gun at the scorce of the voice, when I see Mandy standing behind the desk with a look I can only describe as sheer terror on her face. Cook enters now, and intimidatingly pulls out his trusty machete from his back, before twirling it around in his fingers and saying:

"Ello love, I fink we needs a chat, yeah?"

And like a bloody cat, she bolts. It takes me a minute to catch up, a minute that somehow snapped into place when Cook ran after her and jumped out the same window she fled out of.

"Shit!" I gasp, and take off out the same window after placing my side arm in the holster at my hip. She doesn't get very far, I turn a few corners before I catch up to them, and Mandy is in an alleyway with Cook behind her blocking off the exit - screaming and shaking two cage doors that are locked with a padlock from the other side. Cook is a few feet away from her, laughing hysterically.

"Shake it! Come on, louder babes! Whooo!" He bellows.

I walk briskly over to him and stand in front of him and behind Mandy, and as she turns around to see me standing a few feet away from her I see tears and - surprisingly - hope. Little does she know that I opted to kill her when she wouldn't leave our side like a battered puppy those couple of years ago. Little does she know that if it wasn't for Cook, the man she sent thugs after to kill earlier today, she'd have been dead by my hands two years ago.

"Hello, Mandy." I say blankly.

"Naomi" She breathes. My demeanour doesn't change, and she opens her arms out from her chest.

"No hard feelings, right?"

I bend down, and pick up a thick metal pipe off the ground to my left.

"None at all." I reply.

She tries to make a mad dash for it then, but I'm too quick for her. I pull back, and swing that pipe as hard as I can into the front of her kneecap; and she goes tubling to the floor.

"HOLY SHIT!" She screeches, grasping at her knee like it is made of Lego and the only way to keep the pieces together is to form a tight grip.

I drop the pipe then, and the sound of metal on concrete echos out into the alleyway. _Why do I love that sound? Oh, right. Because I'm a monster._

"We missed you." I say, as I walk slowly over to a wounded Mandy.

She looks up at me, tears streaming down her face. "Look, Naomi... whatever it is you heard... we can work through this!"

"The guns." I cut her off. "The ones you ripped off from us on the last job. We want them back."

She sighs, and tries to sit up, but instead falls flat against the floor in pain. "Fuck... Yeah. Sure, sure. But... look, I can't tell you, alright?"

No, Mandy. Not alright. Not all fucking right at all. I place my boot over her right hand and press sharply into a few fingers, before I speak my next sentence.

"You can, and you will."

She is squirming now. "Wait! Look, Just listen to me for a sec-"

I've had about all I can take from this bitch, and push with all my force onto her hand, hearing a few snaps as I do so; breaking a few of her fingers.

"AAAAH MOTHER FUCK!"

I bend down, grab her face with my hand, and squeeze angrily.

"No more bullshit, or I'll break your fucking arm next. Where are my guns!" I shout.

"Fuck! I... I fucking sold them, okay?" She whimpers.

_"Excuse me?"_

"I didn't have a choice! I owed them."

"Owed who!" I take ahold of her wrist next, indicating to her that it's the next limb I am going to break if she doesn't answer my question.

"Stop, stop! I can't tell you okay? It-"

Too late. Snap goes her wrist and the scream that came out of her mouth at that one definately wasn't pleasant.

"The Butterflies!" She finally answers, bellowing out into the empty alleyway.

_What the fuck?_ I look to Cook then, and he is leaning his back against the brick wall, rolling a spliff while he takes in our little show in front of him.

"James" I start.

"Yeah, yeah Blondie, I 'eard. Fuck me Mandy, you really bet on the wrong horse wiv this one, di'in't cha?"

I pull out my gun, and point it at her head. "Let's go find us a Butterfly" I say over my shoulder to Cook, before looking into Mandy's dark black eyes and pulling the trigger.

Her body falls limp to the floor, and I swiftly shove my gun back into the holster before stepping over Mandy's body and lean against the wall next to Cook. I fixate on the blood slowly pooling around her body, and it sends harsh pangs through my heart. Killing people always has this effect for me. But, what can I do? This is how it works now.

His spliff is finished, and he lights it up before taking a drag and passing it to me. I take a long pull on it, and exhale the smoke slowly as I tilt my head up towards the cloud covered grey sky.

"How we gonna find one of 'em anyways?" He asks.

I give him back his spliff, and open my mouth to say something before I hear a voice from around the corner of the alleyway say smoothly:

"I needed her alive."

Cook looks over to the source of the sound, pulls on a cheshire grin, and booms out "Well, there ya go babes! Queen fucking Butterfly at yer beck and call!"

I look over to the owner of those four little words, and see a lanky girl with dark brown wavy hair draped over her face, and ice cold blue eyes that mirror my own. She is dressed in skinny black jeans with big combat boots, a grey hoodie, and dark green military jacket. I see her clutching her right side, and a large patch of blood has formed under her hand on the sweater.

"_Wow_, Elizebeth Stonem, in the bleeding flesh. You look like shit." I say.

She doesn't reply, though I didn't really expect her to. She just stares into my eyes, and forms a small smirk on her lips. I don't have the time or patience for staring contests, so I speak again.

"The guns she sold you" I start "They wern't hers to sell."

"Doesn't work like that, Naomi. I paid for those guns fair and square."

I look over to Cook, who looks completely out of his element. He's always been unsettled around her, and for reasons I'm not quite sure of. So, him being of little help, I focus my attention back onto Effy.

"Fine. How many cards are we talking about then."

"I don't give a fuck about ration cards." She scoffs.

"You want them back?" She raises her eyebrow. "You have to earn them."

Of course, Cook decides to take this time to listen to our conversation, and starts to hoot and holler because his mind goes to me and Effy munching muff to 'earn' things. I pick up a rock from the floor infront of me, and throw it with all my might at him. It hits him square in the head, and he cries out in pain.

"Fookin' hell, Blondie!"

Effy has lost her patience, because she talks over his whimpers. "I need something smuggled out of the city. Do it, and I'll give you your guns back, and then some."

Cook clues in then, and asks sternly: "How can we be sure you even have 'em, eh? I hear you guys been bein' wiped out by the militia."

"Got that right." She says quietly. "I'll show you."

'

'

An hour or so later, and she's led us to one of her hideouts in an old abandoned condo building. It looks like it has been bombed, because it is leaning against the side of a building adjacent to it. Climbing up the stairs was the hardest part. Not only was it like walking up the side of a crumbling pyramid, but her wound made it difficult to say the least. Not to mention the pace was too slow for Cook and I's liking, so we took turns helping her limp her way through the streets, dirty, graffiti ridden alleyways, and up the leaning Pisa stairs to our destination.

The last time I saw Effy was on a job in London, and to be honest I didn't think she made it out alive. We were working together, doing a deal with some guys from Ireland. I couldn't ever make out what they were saying, but even then - staring down the barrel of a sawn off shotgun - Effy was as cool as ice. Nothing ever fazed her, even when they threatened to make a welcome mat out of her skin. Suffice it to say, the deal went south and the guys killed four of my top men, though I'm pretty sure by the looks of it; Effy was the only one who escaped herself. I don't want to say I'm happy she made it, because every time she pops up in my life; something shatters.

"Okay" She sighs. "We're here. Through those doors."

She pushes off Cook then, and decides that now is the time for her to appear strong and healthy._ Sure, that's alright Eff. We didn't just spend the last hour and a half dragging your sorry ass to this shit hole._

She pushes open one of the big silver doors at the end of the hall, and tumbles to the floor inside.

"Woah, Eff" I say, bending down to help her up. "Come on now"

As I reach down and pull her up by her arms, I hear footsteps charging at me to my right and a girl scream at me:

"Get the fuck away from her!"

Cook runs in now, grabbing her by the throat, lifting her off the ground and pinching the knife out of her hands. She is a smaller girl, about five feet, four inches tall, has vibrant red hair and big brown eyes. She is wearing a dark grey long sleeved shirt layered with a electric blue tshirt, with the words 'Sink or Swim' written on it in grey lettering. She has black combat pants on, with what would seem to be many items stashed in the pockets judging by the size of the bulges.

"Who the fook are you?!" He yells at her.

Effy bolts up "No! let her down!" She shouts at him. He looks to me, asking with his eyes if he should, while the tiny girl squirms in his grasp.

"Do it." I say, and he places the girl back down on the floor, who then starts coughing profusely and rubbing at her throat; sending daggers his way.

"Recruiting kind of young, huh?" I spit at Effy.

Fucking Butterflies are constantly on the look out for new soldiers. They even recruited me back in the day, when I was still reeling at any and every soldier I came in contact with because of the one who killed my mother. The Butterflies are a 'terrorist group', or so that's what the military call them. The Butterflies are actually a sort of freedom fighter organization, and their main focus over the last few years has been to return some form of Government back into our society. Living under Martial Law is hell in itself, you don't have to go on the outside to know what that feels like. We have 10pm curfew that results with a shot to the head if you're caught outside not but a minute after, they withhold your food if there isn't enough in the truck for each and every soldier in the zone, and they almost never let anyone get their hands on a bar of soap out here. They also like to do routine 'check-ups' on people throughout the days or nights. They break into your home, drag you out of bed, and make you sit on your knees against the dirty floor and bitter cold as they scan the lot of you for the infected. They've done it to me on many occasions, and sometimes one of them gets the bright idea to 'frisk' me in case I have a fucking vile of the disease hidden in my ass cheek.

She pulls herself to a standing position, resting her body against a tabletop. "She's _not _one of mine." She exhales.

"Shit" The readhead breathes, as she runs to Effy's side. "What happened?"

Effy waves her off, "It's nothing. I'll be fixed in no time."

She sits down on a chair then, the smaller girl inching towards her, eyes fixed on the blood patch on her sweater that seems to be growing with each passing minute. Cook closes the door, and the sound startles the girl, who instinctively snaps her gaze to Cook.

"I've brought help." Effy starts, nodding towards me. The girl looks right at me then, and bores her eyes into mine. It feels like an all out battle is erupting in my body, there is something about her. I'm uneasy, I'm unsettled. My fucking face feels like it's 1000 degrees. I_ don't feel right._

"But I can't go with you." Effy finishes, snapping us out of our staring contest.

The little read head focuses her attention on Effy, and starts to recant. "...Well... Well then, I'm not going" The girl speaks, her voice is a lot deeper than I would have assumed from such a small girl.

"Emily." Effy cuts. "We won't get another shot at this." The two of them seem to be talking in some kind of language I don't understand. I look over my shoulder to Cook, who is just staring at the pair of them. I wave my hand in front of his vision, trying to get him to focus on me for thirty seconds. He looks at me, and within the span of two seconds; his gaze goes back to them._ Fucking useful as tits on a bull, James._ Just then, my mind slips to something I didn't think of before.

"Wait..." I say, stupidly making everyone aware that a light bulb just went off in my head.

"Are you telling me we are smuggling, _her_?"

**Got any reviews in there for me? **

**And in case you weren't aware... HOLYFUCKINGSHITSKINSFIREISONTONIGHT!**

**xo V**


	4. Chapter 4

**New chapter friends, thank you so much for reviewing and stuff. They were the only things inspiring me to write since Skins Fire took the wind out of my sails. **

"There's a crew of Butterflies that will meet you at the museum."

Cook scoffs. "That's not even fookin' close!"

Effy scowls at him, and gives him a warning look. "You're bloody capable, _Cook_." She winces in pain, and clutches at her side. He takes a step back from her, and my eyes are still fixed on hers. Mostly because I'm waiting for an answer, but also trying to keep my focus.

She notices me watching her. So she sits up straight, turns to me, and says simply: "Drop her off, and the weapons are yours. _All_ of them."

I can see the little red head watching me from my perriferal, and it's making me nervous. She makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand up, and my stomach churn into fucking knots. I'm used to being around bad people, bad men. I've killed the infected before with nothing more than my bare hands and the occasional shiv. Though, I save those for absolute emergencies, because the supplies are expensive at best. Through all the bloodshed, all the pain, all the fucking moral delemmas, this is the first time I've ever had this feeling in the pit of my stomach - fear. I glance quickly over at her, and open my mouth to make a snyde comment so she'll fucking break her eyes away from me, when Cook takes a formidable step towards Effy and spits out:

"Enough of all the mysterious _bullshit_, Effy. Where the fook are my guns? You bring me all the way over 'ere to meet some little treat, which is all fine and peachy if she's gonna give 'lil cookie some luvin', but she ain't, is she? So enough of this shite and show me the goods, or I'll shoot both of ya right now!"

Emily's face contorts into several different emotions in that moment. It goes from shock, to disgust, to fear, and then anger. And within the span of several seconds I see her reach across the table, grab a piece of wood slat, and swings it at Cooks head.

"Hey!" I shout, just in time to alarm Cook so he can efficiently duck his head. I launch myself at her and grab her hands, squeezing around them so her hands squish into the wood causing her to release it. She howls in agony, releases the slat, and I find my way to her back and grab around her chest from behind, grabbing my fists together and harshly squeezing her arms into her torso. She struggles me, and I must admit this is the most strength I've ever had to fight against in someone. Of course, I didn't stab her in the neck, which would make this a lot easier. She bucks wildly, and I can see Cook is having a laugh while Effy eyes us curiously. I am just about to say something to them when there is a harsh THUD! against my face and I feel a strong POP! in my nose.

"_Mother Fuck_!" I stagger back, releasing the smaller girl from my grasp. I instinctively hold my hand up to my nose, and see blood pouring out of it and into my hand.

"You broke my fucking nose!" I screetch at Emily, holding my nose so tightly that I sound like a scuba diver.

"Yeah?" She spits. "Well you fucking tore apart my hands!" She holds her palms out to me and I can see they are scratched up, a few pieces of wood lodged in certain spots and there is a lot of blood coming from undetermined places.

"Looks like Naomi has met her match." Effy says effortlessly.

"Fuck you, Effy! I wasn't trying to fucking kill her, she swung at Cook!"

He raises his arms in protest "Eh babes, ain't got nuffin to do wiv me that little red can hold er own. Pat on the back to ye'. Blondie 'ere has taken down her fair share of full on men!"

"Taken, down?" Emily questions. She looks over at me with a confused and frankly scared look on her face, and I suddenly feel the urge to stop this conversation before it starts.

"Eff? Guns?" I say pointedly, reminding everyone in the room to stop staring at my bloody nose and focus on the conversation at hand.

She looks into my eyes, smirks one of her annoying Stonem smirks at me, and sighs. "They're back at our camp. You," She nods at Cook "Can come with me. But _she_," She points to Emily "Is _not_ crossing into that part of town."

I stare at her, wondering where the punch line is. There's always one with Effy Stonem - grand leader of the fucking Butterflies - which only increases my desire to laugh seeing as Effy and butterflies don't exactly mix. But I guess that was back in a time where the word 'butterfly' was used for a surprisingly beautiful bug with colorful wings and a soothing presence. Well, to me anyway.

"I want Naomi to watch her." And, **there **it is, the mightiest of all punchlines. You are shit out of your mind on this one, Effy.

"Fucked if I am!" I shout, at the same time Emily shouts:

"No way! I'm not staying with her!"

"Emily!" Effy cuts in.

I don't think I've ever heard Effy raise her voice like that before. She's always so calm, and collected. So I'm wondering what it is about this little red head that is causing Effy to act so out of the norm? History tells me that this girl is probably worth a lot of money, and we're delivering her to some fat discusting ex-chef who wants to tie her up and do horrible things to her, but something about this is off. Effy wouldn't be this serious, and this emotional about a girl who is just a big pay day. Would she?

Emily is silenced by Effy's outburst, as am I, and she shifts her gaze around us and the room before tentatively leaning into Effy and whispering "How do you know them?"

Effy shifts her body again, this time getting fully onto the cabinet so she can sit on it.

"I knew Cooks friend, Freddie. He always said if I needed anything, I could trust him and Naomi."

She sees that Emily is not fully convinced, and decides to nail the point home. "They may be thugs, but they're good people."

_Well fuck me sideways and twice on Sundays, did she just say I was a good person?_

I hold back a scoff, because let's face it. Little red bludgeoning hood is finally starting to calm down.

Cook saunters over to me then, and half whispers his next sentence. "Look, babes. Just take her to the North Safehouse, yeah? Wait for me there, I'll come get ya"

"Fuck sake" I shake my head in distain.

Cook opens his arms out to his side, and shakes his head questioningly. "There ain't no other options babe. It's gonna be a piece of cake. That is, if you can keep your hands off little red enough to heal that nose of yours." He winks at me suggestively, and I hear Emily sharply whisper _"What the fuck?!"_ to Effy.

"You'll be fine" Effy breathes out, clutching at her side tighter this time and raising herself off the cabinet. She stands up tall, looks at Emily and nods in my direction. "Now, go with her."

I walk up to Cook then, place my hand on his forearm and squeeze so I have his full attention. He turns to me, and I tell him flatly. "Don't take long."

Cook nods, and shrugs off his backpack, before reaching into it and pulling out a few loose bullets. He stands back up, pulls on his pack, and hands me the bullets, squeezing into my hand as he does so. He always does this when we have to part. In this world, you never know when your friends and family are going to be taken from you, so you tend to always be on edge when you break apart for any amount of time. So this is what Cook does, as his 'final goodbye' to me, he gives me ammunition, and kisses me on the forehead.

He leans in, gives me a kiss, and walks over to join Effy. Emily is staring at Effy now, and I at Cook. Effy smiles at Emily, and I need you to hear the emphasis on the word _smiles,_ because she doesn't smile. Ever. She smirks, she condecends, she fucking laughs like the bloody joker, but Effy Stonem does **not** smile. She walks up to the little red head, kisses her cheek and squeezes her shoulder.

"I'll be right back."

I've had just about enough of this sappy bullshit, so I decide to cut in with my oh-so-Naomi-Campbell gruffness and call to Emily as I start to walk towards the back door.

"You. Stay close."

'

'

We walk for a bit in silence, and she is quite clumsy I've come to notice. Almost every time there's an empty glass bottle, she somehow manages to 'stumble' over it. I notice that my strides are too long and fast for her to keep up with her tiny frame, but because of her I need to find a different shirt. Sure, there was blood on it before from some of those guys, but that was on the sleeves. I just end up rolling them up, and it doesn't bother me. But now, blood is drenched down my front and it's seeped through to the skin on my chest, making a burning sensation everytime my pours open up to secrete sweat. Not only that, but the close proximity of the blood to my face is making me nauseous; because I can smell it; like a sour copper.

There are some dead soldiers littered on the ground, and they mirror the path we have to take through the tube station. I continue walking past them, but I can sense that Emily doesn't. She crouches down beside one of them and is looking at the sight of the fallen soldiers. I continue walking, hoping that my lack of caring will push her to move on, but she doesn't move. I sigh to myself, because fuck this girl is irritating. I turn around on my heels, and walk straight up to her - about to tell her to move her ass - when I see her reach down to one of the bodies. She gently puts her hand over one of their faces, and closes his still opened eyes, takes the helmet off of his head and wipes the fringe out of his eyes and face.

"He's dead, Emily." Is about all I can say, because I'm flabbergasted. Why is she doing this? They're not bloody sleeping.

"I know that." She replies coolly. "That doesn't mean we can't give a shit."

"Actually, that's exactly what it means." I retort, pulling up on her arm so she is sprung to her feet.

She stands, and pulls her arm away from me sharply. "Have you killed people?"

I'm taken aback by her bluntness, and the fact there is so much malace behind her enquiry. Why would you judge me? You don't even know me, you don't know what I've had to do.

"Yes." I reply simply.

"Did you stop to think they had families?" She asks, hardening herself up as she does so. I get defensive then, and snap at her.

"What would you know about it? What do you even know of the world? Let me give you a little advice. You either hang onto your morals and die, or you do **whatever it takes** to survive. My advice? Do as I say and don't fucking judge me. There's no room in this world for kingdoms and martyrs." I turn around hastily and continue walking, and I hear the quick padding of Emily behind me.

She doesn't say much after that, just the occasional unimportant comment or observation here and there. We walk through an alley way and there is a convoy driving through the street. I stop, grab Emily and pull her down, out of sight. The convoy has a message bursting out of the loudspeakers as it truges along the dirty, unoccupied streets.

_Curfew is now in effect. Any one caught outside will be put to death. Remember, harbouring a Butterfly will result in prosecution. All personnel report to your quarantine stations for ration distribution._

We are crouched down behind some old newspaper stands, and because the space is tight, I pulled her in front of me so that I am pressed into her. I have my left arm lifted and my palm is pressed flat against the stand, while Emily in in the little space under my arm. I accidentally breath in a little harshly, and in doing so, I take in Emily's scent. She smells of crab apples. I haven't smelled that since I was little.

Back when my mom was alive and I was innocent, we had a crab apple tree in our garden. Every year it would blossom into this huge cache of fallen apples, and I always hated it because the sugar in the apples brought the unwanted attention of wasps and bees. But, clearly, my mind has decided from that simple smell that this is going to be a good memory. A memory of the times when I would come home from school, and there would be a juicebox waiting for me on the kitchen table and a nice warm slice of homemade pie next to it. I remember how rediculously goofy my mother looked as she eagerly awaited my feedback on the pies. I was a snarky bugger, and still am, so I would always say 'too dry' or 'too sweet'. Eventually she would just give up, because no matter how much I complained, I still licked that plate clean every time.

The soldiers are gone now, but I don't notice right away. We sit there in the same position for a minute, when Emily raises her eyebrow at me and whispers "Shall we?" softly into my ear. The mixture of her low husk and her hot breath on my neck is enough to make my skin burn up, yet send chills down my back at the same time. I jolt upright to my feet, and start walking towards the alley way of our building. She follows suit, and as we turn the corner the ladder has broken off it's hinges to the fire escape a few feet above our heads. Emily slows her pace, and stops next to me, mirroring my position as she looks up at the fire escape.

"How are we-"

"Keep your vagina on" I cut in, and walk away from her looking for some way to get us up there.

She lets out a snort, and folds her arms around her chest and leans against the brick wall of the building. I walk around the alley for a few minutes, there really isn't any other way to get in, and no where else to go. We are at a dead end. Just then I catch a glimmer of green inside a building. The bricks have crumbled into a big hole in the side of the building, and in one of the rooms is an old waste bin. I smile, head in, and grab the handle. I lurch backwards to try and dislodge it, but it's stuck. I try one more good pull and it jerks free, almost knocking me flat on my ass. Luckily enough I kept my balance, and started pushing it along towards the fire escape, and an intrigued Emily.

"What the hell are you gonna do with _that_?" She asks smugly.

"Watch and learn, pipsqueak" I reply back.

She goes to say something, but I haven't stopped pushing the bin. She sees me coming towards her, and she bolts out of the way as I slam it against the wall beneath the fire escape. I climb into the top of the bin and grab a hold of the ledge, and pull myself up onto the old rusted metal of the steps. I look down at Emily expectantly, and she sighs before climbing up on the bin. I don't wait for her to get fully up, and I don't stick around to offer her assistance. I hear her ask me something, but because I am a few steps up the escape, it's muffled. So I come back around the corner, and she asks me in a small voice.

"Could you help me up? It's my hands..." She trails off, lifting up her palms to me so I can see that they are sore and throbbing.

She has managed to pull a few of the slivers out, but there are still a lot of them in there. I roll my eyes at her, because I don't want to let her know I feel bad, and walk over to her. I lean down, and she reaches up, and I pull her from under her arms as she wraps her arms around my neck. She feels warm, and not in a disgustingly sweaty way like I do. She is, welcoming. Inviting. This simple action causes my head to swell, because it is the closest thing to a hug I've felt in almost 20 years. (I didn't hug much as a kid. What I would do to change that if I could.) I pull her all the way up, and she mutters a small 'thanks' as she gets to her feet. We make our way up the fire escape into an open window and climb into the room of the building. I open the door, and we walk silently through the hallways looking for our room.

"So." Emily starts, breaking the silence between us. "You smuggle things?"

"Yep."

"Like... illegal things?"

"Sometimes."

"Have you ever smuggled a human before?"

"Once or twice." Is all I say. I'm not proud of that aspect, but I did it when I was younger because it kept me on the other side of those bars. I've opted out of it over the last two years, mostly by choice but also because word spread about the guys we took out that bought Mandy. It put a huge dent in our profits, but I was secretly grateful we wern't in that buisness anymore.

The air has gotten thick with us, and I don't know why it bothers me so much that she has a problem with me. She asks these questions, I may be many things but I'm not a liar. So I decide to change the subject, and ask her:

"So what's the deal with you and Effy, anyways?"

She lets out a deep breath and I hear her backpack jingle as she shrugs her shoulders.

"I dunno. She's my friend I guess."

We walk through a skyway, that is littered with glass shards and garbage. I nod to her so she knows to watch her step, and we continue on route, avoiding big chunks of glass.

"So you're friends with the leader of the Butterflies, what are you like, sixteen?"

She sighs. "She... knew my sister. Katie asked her to look out for me. And I'm twenty two, by the way. Not like that matters anyway."

"Where is your sister now?" I inquire. I know, stupid question, but the more I get her thinking and talking about her own life, the less scrutiny I get for mine.

"Where is anyones family?" She says quietly, and stops in her tracks. I turn around, and see that her eyes have welled up a little.

"She's gone." Is all she says, before wiping her eyes on the sleeve of her shirt and brushing past me. I sigh to myself, and follow her.

"So what?" I ask, catching up to her easily. "She... after that you just up and joined up with Effy and the Butterflies?"

"Look." She snaps. "I'm not supposed to tell you why you're smuggling me, and I'm not going to tell you."

I raise my hands up in dismissal. "Perk of my job? I don't need to know. And frankly I could give a shit."

She looks at me for a minute, studies me. I shake my head at her and start walking again. "Lets go." I say over my shoulder.

'

'

A few minutes later we arrive at our room, and I unlock the door and step back to usher her into the room first.

"This is it." I say flatly. I follow her inside and I drop my bag at the side of the couch and plunk my tired and sore body down on the sofa.

"What are you doing?" She asks.

"Killing time."

She investigates the room, and even though I am lying on my back with my eyes closed, I'm watching her. She eyes me silently for a few moments, before shaking her head and walking off.

"Your necklace is pretty."

'

'

I wake with a start, I had another dream about my mom. Only this time she was in one of the big groups of people I was smuggling with Cook. I don't really want to talk about the dream, I'm just happy I forced myself awake before I dreamt anymore. It's raining heavy outside, I can hear it pelting against the glass windows of the room. I look over, and see Emily perched in a chair staring out one of the windows.

"You were murmoring in your sleep." She says. I lift myself into a sitting position and touch my nose. Fuck it still hurts.

"I hate bad dreams." She talks again.

This time my vision evens out and I see that she is pinching at her hands trying to get some of the remaining slivers out. For some reason I reach into my bag, pull out a pair of pliers, and walk over to her. I sit on the arm of the chair, and reach for her hand. Our touch startles her out of her daze, and she starts to protest as I pull her hand close to me.

"No, no leave it-"

"Shh." I whisper. "Just relax."

She settles down a little, and watches me intently as I pull at the slivers carefully. She winces a few times, and when she does I rub my thumb over the back of her hand to settle her. After about ten minutes of this, in complete silence, I have successfully pulled out all the wooden shards. I stand up, pulling her up gently with me, and walk her over to the sink in the opposite end of the room.

"Wait here." I instruct calmly, and she complies. I drop the pliers back into my bag and pull out a bottle of alcohol and some bandage wrapping. I walk back over to her, her eyes never leaving me, and I say sympathetically, "This is going to hurt."

She nods, and takes a deep breath, looking deep into my eyes. I take her hands, and pour some of the alcohol onto them. She yelps in pain, and I know it hurts.

"Just a few more seconds." I say, and she nods at me with tears streaming down her face.

Once I'm satisfied that the wounds are clean and all the blood is gone, I place the bottle next to the sink and start to wrap her hands in bandages. After it's all done, she kind of looks like a boxer. Her hands are all wrapped up and there are a few blood stains on the white bandage where the new blood has soaked through. She avoids eye contact with me, and goes back to her chair by the window, looking out at the night sky; deep in thought.

"I've never been this close." She speaks, still looking out into the night. "I forgot how dark it gets."

"You don't remember much?" I ask, as I walk over to her. She shakes her head.

"It can't be any worse out there..." She says after a moment.

I'm standing next to her now, towering over her as she sits on the chair. I look at her, and I don't know how to respond. It is an unimaginable world out there, and the fact that she is so hopeful... I don't want to answer. She lifts her head up, and makes eye contact with me then.

"Can it?"

**Slightly longer chapter for you, I hope you enjoyed. Naomi is a complicated woman, isn't she?**

**Please review? I need a pick-me-up from Monday's events. **

**xoV**


	5. Chapter 5

**Hello friends, back again. Thank you for everything you do, it means the world to me :) I pounded out this chapter for you not only because your reviews sparred me on to do so, but I'll be away on holiday for a week or so; and wanted to give you something to read while I'm gone. I may have some time to start writing Chapter 6, but I know there will be no time to finish it before I leave. **

**A teeeeny warning though, there is some stuff coming up that may be a little violent or uncomfortable for you to read, depending on your tolerance. Or not, who knows. I did tone it down a lot in my proof read, so this whole drabble may be irrelevant at this point. I'll mark the paragraph with a * anyways so you can either skip or do what you gotta do. **

She stands up from her chair, positions herself right in front of me; her eyes pleading. Tugging at every tissue in my body like a harp, she's begging for me to ease her. To tell her that everything she's ever heard about the outside world has been a lie, to tell her that the things she's seen are in fact horrible; and that there are not worse things in this world than loosing the people you cherish.

"Can it?" She asks again.

I can't do this. I can't explain to her the evils of the world, I can't even accept it _myself_ that I am more afraid of **people** than I will ever be of the infected. I can't tell her that sometimes, the infected mutate, and turn into terrifying monsters that want to make a breakfast sandwich out of you.

I can't tell her how it makes me feel that she is so caring, that she thinks about things in a different way, with compassion and kindness. How that not only makes _me_ feel _evil_, but how I also admire her courage and conviction. How she is innocent yet blunt, how she has strong morals and how I am completely terrified of this journey because I know it will change her forever. The things I know she is going to have to witness, the things she is going to have to do. _Why the fuck do I even care? She is just a package. _So instead, I opt for an escape route.

"What the hell do the Butterflies want with you, Emily?"

She studies me like a map that she will never see again, and I see something in her fall. Like, she was searching for something in me, and I've let her down. Unfortunately when people have high expectations for me I always fail miserably at meeting them, and this time it's no different.

I always let **myself** down the most, because I hate who I have become. I am bitter, selfish and violent. I've probably killed more people in the last twenty four hours than Jack the Ripper did in 1888 London. I've killed people in self defense, I've killed people when I've protected someone I care about, I've even killed people for fun; well fun in the sense that I didn't have to, but thought it might sharpen my skills or prove a challenge. _Fuck._ Emily's right, I've never once considered that they have families, but does all that make me evil? What about all the things people have tried to do to me? All the things they **have** done to me? _Those_ scars are the deepest. And I've learned to shut the incessant mouth of my conscience to survive. I don't like that Emily makes me doubt myself, makes me hate myself even more.

I hear the door creak open, and Cook pops his head into the room. He catches my eyes, and smiles one of his big toothy grins before bounding into the room, scooping me into his arms and squeezing the life out of me.

"Eh, Blondie! I wish you coulda seen their camp man, the amount of fire power they got gave me a stiffy!"

I push back from him forcefully - he knows that I am uncomfortable with emotional moments - and move my lower body as far away from him as possible. The last thing I need to feel near my leg or pelvis is his... thing. He's 'accidentally' spooned me enough during the night that I can pretty much describe what it looks like in full detail; and I've never once actually _seen_ it. Thank god for small miracles.

"So I take it Queen Bee of Shit County was telling the truth then?" I supply sarcastically.

"She was bein' modest, babe. They got-"

"More guns then people to use them." Effy cuts in. _Always the fucking buzz kill._

"How did you and Naomi make out, Emily?" Effy asks, as she saunters effortlessly into the room; a surprising spring in her step.

Emily scoffs, and says sharply "There was no _making out_."

Cook looks at me - smiling like the fucking Cheshire cat - before tilting his head back and starts roaring with laughter. If we were on the outside, every runner, stalker, clicker, and fucking bloater would be drawn to and munching on us right now.

"Bloody hell, Emilio! No one said nuffin' 'bout snoggin'! Where's yer head at, girl?!"

She shoots him daggers, goes beat red and crosses her arms across her chest. Effy lets out the littlest chuckle as she closes the door to the room quietly. Emily takes this opportunity to focus her attention on Effy and her apparently stitched up wound - which looks a lot worse now that it's out in the open and sewn up - while I smack Cook lightly in the arm.

"What's with all the lesbian digs, Cook? Hoping for a show you're never gonna get?"

"Eh, Naomikins" He starts, wrapping his massive arm around my shoulder. "Red is gorgeous, eh? And judging by the fact she almost cracked me head off for my lil' cookie dig, I'd say she goes for tall blondes." He winks suggestively at me.

"Cook" I begin "You know my stance on-"

"Yeah, yeah" He cuts in. "I've 'eard it all before babes. You don't like carin', ain't no room for love, blah blah blah."

"Your point, Cook?" I say mordantly.

"Me point, Blondie, is that every time I talk about my shags, you light up like a bloody Christmas tree!" I glare at him, and remove his arm from my shoulders. He looks at me like a wounded puppy, before slapping his hands at his side in frustration.

"Look, you deserve those stories too, yeah? So snog a pretty girl for fuck sake, it ain't gonna kill ya."

"Yes it will." I say quietly.

He sees me then, and I think for the first time he **really **sees me. I don't know why I blurted it out, we've known each other for 12 years and I have yet to be this vulnerable or honest with him. The only other time this side of me was shown to Cook was the day we met, and it wasn't exactly a choice; or my proudest moment.

'

'

***** It was the day I lost contact with Kieran, we were at a ration post collecting some breakfast - fucking sad excuse for one if I say so - and a riot broke out because some guy tried to take an extra piece of bread. The guards had stun batons, and started beating on people that charged them. It was an even fight, because there were more people as opposed to guards, and soon it became an all-out violence fest. Some guy cracked Kieran over the head with a crowbar and he fell unconscious to the ground, and I was only 15 at the time. I had never once hit anyone, or even had to. Kieran had kept me safe, and sheltered me as best he could from the world. Of course I saw people die, and the infected attack people, but this was the first time in my life I had ever wished to be face to face with a clicker instead of my current position. I remember being grabbed from behind forcefully, and dragged off somewhere away from the riots. The smell of body odour and moonshine attacked my senses as I was carried off into the distance. I could feel his thick arm hair tickle along my bare skin, and the slimy feel of his sweat on me. Some time after he decided we were secluded enough, he proceeded to throw me forcefully against a brick wall behind a dumpster. He looked me over hungrily, before undoing the buckle of his jeans and launching at me. I screamed as loud as I could, but it only made him laugh. He held me by my throat, and told me that he 'liked a fighter' before reaching down with his other hand and unzipping his trousers. I closed my eyes, praying that something would strike me dead in that moment, but nothing ever came. I prepared myself as he slipped his gigantic hand over my skirt (reason number one why I only ever wear pants) and ripped it up my torso. Though, that was as far as he got until I felt the warm splatter of blood on my face. I felt his hand slip from my neck, and hear a loud THUD! on the floor in front of me. I opened my eyes in shock, and took in the sight before me. Said grease ball was collapsed on the floor, and there was blood **everywhere**. His head was hit from behind, and there was no way to tell that he even had the shape of a head anymore; it was completely collapsed. To the right of his body I saw a pair of black boots, and the tip of a bloody pipe; and I forced myself to look at the man standing in front of me. It was Cook, he had a look on his face that I haven't ever seen again to this day. He didn't say a word, and neither did I. All of the sudden, he rushed over to me and wrapped me up in his arms like a new born baby; and I sobbed. He held me like that for hours, as I cried so much his shirt was soaked. He never said a word, all he did was wipe the hair out of my face and kiss the top of my head. I settled myself into the crook of his neck, and once I ran out of tears, he still sat there; holding me.

He tried to help me find Kieran after that, but we never could. I don't know where he went, or if he's even alive. It was like he disappeared, along with everything else. We've stuck together ever since, Cook and I. And he has never once brought up that day, and I've never been more grateful about it. We kind of moulded into each other that day, after everything it was like we'd known each other for years. We were inseparable, and he taught me how to survive. The first thing he taught me was self-defence; hand to hand combat. Next came knives, then eventually all sorts of guns. He taught me how to make things, shivs, medical kits, anything really. He taught me how to use pretty much every weapon and gun out there, and I found out some years later that he had killed quite a few people to get those guns and bullets for the sake of my target practice.

A few years after that I started to have feelings for Cook that I thought were romantic. I told him about it, and we talked it out. I told him I was pretty certain that I was gay within the first month of us being friends, so he wanted to figure out what was going on first. He's always been good to me like that. He told me that there are many different kinds of love out there, and that he loved me; just not in a romantic way because I told him I liked girls. I was 18 and I wanted to figure it out, and talking wasn't helping me since I turned the emotional and moral side of my brain off. So he did what I asked, and let me figure it out. He was gentle, and respectful, and let me do whatever I had to do to work out my feelings. We kissed, which turned into a pretty heated snogging session, and I did touch him quite a bit. I was into it, because I had never had sex you understand, let alone a snog. But there were things about it that I didn't like. His beard made my face itch and his skin was too rough. When I took his shirt off I liked the way his chest felt, it was smooth and muscular. But there were a few hairs in the middle of his chest that I didn't really like. He did get excited, and we tried it out for maybe a second, but I was too terrified to even look at him or his body, and I didn't enjoy the feeling. So, I told him to stop, and he did. Just like that. I know that's a painful thing for a guy to do, but he never once made me feel bad for it. He just smiled at me, climbed off gently and covered himself up so I wouldn't see anything. I felt bad, but he assured me that this was the best way for me to find things out, and from then on we had a bond stronger than James.

'

'

"Ey, Blondie. It ain't like that. You don't gotta get attached or anythin'. Just a little fun?" He spoke softly, placing his arm back on my shoulder.

"Short of you shaggin' Effy, I ain't seen anyone remotely hot enough for you, babes."

I elbow him in the side playfully, and kiss him on the cheek. "Ever the gentleman." I tease.

"I have my ways." He smirks back.

"Oh!" He jumps excitedly, remembering something I'm sure that he is quite excited about.

"I got you sumfin'!" He bounds over to the couch where he and Effy placed the bags they brought with them, and he unzips one of the bags; pulling out a garment from it.

"'Ere!" He says excitedly. "I'm sure it's a little big on you, but it was the cleanest I could find."

He passes me the garment, and I take it from him casually. I am actually ecstatic, since the shirt that I am wearing is about three months old and smells of blood. I hold up the shirt, it is a light grey denim western.

"Denim?" I ask cheekily.

"Yeah...?" He responds cautiously.

"You know it's the middle of Summer, right?"

"Yeah!" He shrugs defensively. "But the nights get a little chilly, ei?"

I laugh at him and hit his arm playfully. "Thanks Cook."

I unbutton my plaid shirt as quickly as I can and throw it to the corner of the room. As I am putting my arm through the sleeve of the denim shirt, I hear Effy clear her throat suggestively. I turn to her, and see that she is slyly smirking at a very embarrassed looking Emily. I button up my shirt and look to Cook confusedly, and he just winks playfully at me before walking over to the backpacks again.

"Alright" Cook says, clapping his hands together. "Time for distribution then. 'Ere, this pack is for you, Blondie." He unloads some things from the pack, and gives them to me one by one.

"'Ere is a holster for a second side arm, and a loaded revolver" I strap the holster to the other side on my belt, and place the gun tightly into it.

"Next, I'm gonna show you what's in yer pack. There's an oxygen mask for them spores, a flashlight, a couple packets of water, some food packets, what else..." He rummages through the bag.

"Oh! There's some clips in 'ere, fer yer guns. Some craftin' suplies, and the pack has some clips and stuff so you can pick up anythin' you need and attach 'em. Savvy?"

I take it from him and nod, as he puts his own pack on and turns to Emily. "Right" He passes her the bag. "Effy packed it fer yeh, said that everything in there is what you'll need."

She rummages through it hastily, and stops abruptly and turns to Effy.

"What, no gun?"

"You don't need one." Effy shrugs. "Trust me, you won't want one anyways. The recoil alone, you could lose a toe."

Emily shakes her head in frustration, and shrugs her bag on her shoulders.

"Alright" Cook says. "Time to go."

Me and Cook open the door to another room, and let Emily say goodbye to Effy in peace. Occasionally Emily will raise her voice, saying things like _"Why can't you_?" and "_Where will you be?" _

Effy tells her that she will meet Emily at the museum, and that it won't be long until they are reunited. At one point, I hear Emily say "_I know you miss Katie just as much as I do... and I know I'm not easy to get along with-"_

_"Emily, stop. Look at me. I loved Katie, more than anything. And when she died, I promised her that I'd take care of you, alright? I love you too, you're like **my** little fucking sister; and don't you forget that. Now, go. Okay? I'll see you soon."_

Emily slowly walks into the room after that, with her head bowed and fresh tear stains on her face. Me and Cook decide to rip the Band-Aid off and just get going.

'

'

"Don't you think it odd, that they want us to do their smuggling?" I ask Cook. He places his hand on the windowsill and itches at his head, staring out at the rain.

"We wern't their first choice, or even their second. Eff wanted to do it herself. Beggars can't be choosers, right?"

"Yeah, I suppose."

Cook and I band together to push a bookshelf out of the way so we can squeeze through the hole into the next room, as the exit door is jammed shut. Emily stands back, out of our way, as we take turns climbing through. Cook squeezes through first, and I usher Emily over next. She slides through with ease - thanks to her tiny frame - and I follow suit. There is a hole in the center of this new room, a tunnel with a ladder attached to it. Cook climbs down first, then me, followed by Emily. As we climb, I am in uncomfortably close proximity to her (perfectly formed) ...rear... _fucking Cook and his fucking perverted-ness rubbing off on me... rubbing? Oh god... _so I do my best to small talk with Cook to keep my mind distracted.

"Who's waiting for us at the drop off?"

"She said there's some Butterflies" He grunts "Made their way 'ere from Glasgow. Red must be important." His boots thud onto the ground, indicating that he has reached the bottom. He slaps his hands together in an attempt to get the dirt off his hands, and I reach the ground shortly after. Emily is quickly behind me, and he reaches out to help her down as the last three steps to the floor have rusted away.

"What's the deal wiv you anyway, Emilio bro?" He asks, as he wipes some dirt from the back of her shirt as we start walking through the tunnel.

"I dunno" She shrugs. "H-... how long is this gonna take anyways?"

"Few hours at least" Cook says mindlessly. We crawl our way through a crumbled opening into another part of the tunnel, and Cook takes this opportunity to law down the law to Emily.

"Look kiddo. Once we're outside, you follow me and Blondie, you got it? Stay close and don't bugger off."

"Yeah, of course." She whispers.

We reach the ladder we've been searching for, and I decide to go first this time. It opens out to a storm drain and is covered with a thin piece of wood, so I quietly move it over a bit so I can poke my head out. There are some soldiers patrolling a kilometre or so ahead, and I signal at Cook to wait with Emily. I silently climb out, and thank the stupid rain clouds for making the night even darker for us tonight. I figure we wait out the guards, and we can sneak past them; stealth. Avoid detection. I wait a few minutes after I lose sight of them, just to make sure they are really gone, before I usher Cook and Emily up. Cook moves the wood board back over the hole we emerged from - if there's one rule in this world, it's that you cover your tracks at all times.

We step out from under the cover we were once shielded from the rain under, and it's a shock to the system to say the least. The rain is heavy and freezing, and it sends shivers down my spine. I look behind me and see that Cook has zipped his windbreaker all the way up to his neck, and seems to be struggling with his eyesight in the rain. Emily however, keeps looking up into the sky, closing her eyes and smiling. It's strange to see how much her reactions to things differ from my own; I hate the rain where she is embracing every single drop that soaks her body. I watch as the rain drums onto her, how it drips off the ends of her hair, down her cheek and neck, and she looks blissfully happy to be caught in the rain.

Our path is outlined, and we walk though an old truck cargo box up a slight hill. The sound of the rain pelts down onto the tin of the roof, and it is actually quite loud. Little do we know that it is loud enough to put our lives in danger. I reach the end first, and take the last step out of the walkway when I see a piece of something metal being swung at my face. I feel a heavy SMACK! against my face, and then everything goes black.

'

'

I wake up quickly, face down in the mud. The bitter cold of the rain breaks me out of my concussion, and I hear Cook struggling about and Emily screaming at some guy to let go of her. I am pushed to the floor, and told to get on my knees, put my hands behind my head. I do as instructed, and hear muffled voices of two guards instructing us about.

"Don't do anything stupid." I hear a female voice say. Their masks make them sound like their talking through a tin can. They have flashlights in their guns, so I can see where they are aiming at all times. Too bad it's mostly at our heads. I am joined on the ground now by Cook and Emily, and the female soldier says "You scan them, I'll call it in." to her partner.

He grunts obediently in reply, and swiftly takes out his scanner. I feel the cold metal press against the back of my head, and feel a painful burning sensation where it pricks out some blood. BEEP BEEP! the scanner emits, "Clear." He says aloud to his partner, who is now calling in for backup.

"This is Rodriguez in sector nine, requesting instruction for three stragglers."

Buddy moves on from me and scans Cook next, BEEP BEEP! "Clear." I hear Cook try to coax him to let us go, but the soldier shoves Cook down in the mud and spits angrily "Shut, up."

He moves over to Emily, mumbling something like "So sick of this shit..." and places the scanner to her neck, and in one swift motion - as the scanner does its job - I hear a BEEP!- and a quick "Sorry!" from Emily as she reaches into her pocket and stabs the man in the leg with a switch blade. The man yelps in pain, and smashes his gun into her ribs. In that second, Cook springs to his feet and grabs the man from behind in a choke hold. I jump to my feet, pull out my gun, and quickly shoot the other soldier twice in the head. She drops to the ground, and Cook strangles the life out of soldier number two.

Emily is on the ground now, and crawls backwards into a pile of wood screaming "Oh fuck... _Fuck!"_ As she moves her back against the wood, and brings her knees to her chin.

"I thought you were just gonna... hold them up or something!" She sobs, bringing her hands to her face; her body shaking violently.

Cook lets out an exasperated sigh, and reaches down to pick up the scanner from the ground. He looks it over as I get to my feet, and I hear him say:

"Oh, shit."

I turn to him then, confused, and he looks back at me in both shock and anger. "What?" I ask.

He tosses me the scanner, and I catch it. I look at the screen, and it is bright red with the word 'Positive' flashing quickly on the screen.

"Jesus Christ!" I shout.

I pull out my gun and aim it at Emily, and she instinctively puts her arms up in the air; fear in her eyes and tears streaming down her face.

"You're fucking infected!"

**Ahhh shit, cliff-hanger! Have you had enough of the constant questions popping up in your mind? Now you know why I didn't sleep for two weeks after I bought this game; couldn't leave any questions unanswered, me. The next chapter is going to be super long, with many answers lying within, so hang in there! Let me know your feedback, and I'll do my best to hurry back to you. **

**xo Vi**

**PS is anyone else out there terrified of what Fire Part 2 is going to bring? The more clips I see, the more emotions come flying at my face; and yes they hit HARD.**


	6. Chapter 6

**Wow, well hello there. It's been a while, and for that I am sorry. But, here is my apology and huge thank you for your continued support in the form of the longest chapter I have ever written, for either one of my stories. Beware, sadness is ahead, but it has to be this way. Unlike _some_ things I could mention. **

"I'm not infected!" She pleads.

The heaviness of the rain is adding a lot more drama to this little parody, and with each passing breath; it gets harder for me to aim my trusty side arm at her. _Why? I haven't the slightest._

"Oh, no?" I spit. "Care to explain _THIS_?" I kick the scanner at her, and it makes harsh contact with her left foot.

"Look..." She breathes, clearly still out of breath from her attack on the soldier. "I can explain-"

"You better explain, fast." Cook cuts in, raising his gun to her aswell. Oh, the irony. Here we are, threatening to end her life, when it is about to end anyways. You see, this infection - better known as the Cordyceps Virus - kills its host within the first days of conception. I have seen strong, healthy men collapse from it within a twenty-four hour timeframe. Emily - with her little frame - I give her a few hours, tops. And that's depending on how long she's been infected for.

The virus is properly described as a fungus. Back in the early days, the only species it attached itself to were insects, mites and sometimes roundworms. The comforting thing about the fungus was, it tended to go for species that had a fast reproductive rate. Seeing as how it takes a whole 9 months and a fair bit of hetero shagging to reproduce our species, scientists thought we were safe from it. Clearly THAT wasn't very smart, eh Einstein? It has been around for hundreds of years, first being dubbed _yartsa gunbu _in 15th Century Tibet. But as the years went on, the fungus progressed. And humans, making it a habit to stick their heads in the sand when something frightening comes along that they don't understand; quickly became a part of the food chain.

When the fungus attacks a host, it invades and replaces the host tissue, while the fungus sprouts and spreads over the host body. It tends to be incredibly visible and look cylindrical, branched, or form into a complex shape. _It kind of reminds me of Coral_... The fungi bear white 'heads' on them, usually on the tip of the fungal spread or in between its branches. These contain thread-like mutations inside of them, similar to human tissue, which usually break off into fragments and release things called 'spores' into the air upon their detachment from the host. When the host is killed, the virus continues to grow throughout their body. After some time has passed the fungus will sprout the long tubes that begin to emit spores. Anyone breathing in these spores will become infected, which is why it is essential to carry around fully functioning gas masks. In places with significant airflow (i.e. open fields, rooms with open doors and windows) the spore concentration cannot build up, which is why the only places with significant spore toxicity tend to be underground or abandoned, air tight buildings. The fungus is also able to affect the behaviour of their infected host. Early cases showed infected ants would climb a plant and attach there before they die. This ensures the parasite's environment is at an optimal temperature and humidity, and maximum distribution of the spores from the dead insect.

Obviously people turned into what modern-day media described as zombies - poor definition aside - living through the actual 'zombie apocalypse' makes you want to put a more intelligent description on the focus of your terror. _Runners_ are the most common ones we face in this shit excuse for a world we live in. They are the first stage, recently infected people. They are rabid, blind, and have one basic instinct that needs to be filled; hunger. They are loud and violent, running around with no semblance of direction or focus because the fungus is eating away at their brain like rabies while the parasite starts sprouting through their eyes. The worst part about them? They still look like people. Like the people they used to be. I came across a young boy the other day, wearing a t-shirt that made me chuckle a little. 'Will work for cupcakes' it said. Oh, if only he could be calmed off trying to gnaw on my arm by the smell of a fresh-baked cupcake.

We call the second stage _Stalkers. _A Runner becomes a Stalker usually within the first twelve months of infection. At this point, the fungus spreads from their eyes over their faces making them visibly more frightening. They are just as quick as Runners, and they are still blind as well. Their behaviour changes, though. They seem to use discretion when chasing a victim - they will strife and take cover, eventually closing in on you more accurately. They are the most aware stage of the infected, being able to spot you long before any other stage is capable.

The third stage are called _Clickers. _These lovely creatures have had prolonged exposure to the fungus, which in turn has provided them with strength that significantly surpasses the average human; making them deadlier. Clickers are able to maneuver using echolocation, which produces terror inducing clicking noises to locate prey; much like bats use it to see in the night. Their faces are completely skewed and scarred by fungus, making them virtually unrecognizable. In my opinion, though they are the most terrifying appearance wise, they are the easiest to avoid. They tend to give themselves away because they are always clicking, so if you stay down and keep little things like rocks or bottles on your person, you should be able to avoid them successfully. The rocks and bottles are essential, because if you are made by a clicker, you should throw a rock or bottle at another location to distract them. They are attracted to loud noises, after all.

The final stage of the infection - a creature that me and Cook have had the unfortunate experience of witnessing on one of our old smuggling runs - is a deadly and absolutely horrifying creature dubbed a _Bloater_. Bloaters are usually infected that have taken several years to develop, and are covered in thick fungus over their entire body that effectively doubles as plate armor. These creatures have arms, legs and walk like humans, but they definitely look nothing like a human at this stage of infection. These things are slow moving, but they are extremely strong. I saw one corner a guy - who was firing round after round of shotgun shells at the bloody thing - pick him up by the throat, and tear him in two. Speed and brutality are key; me and Cook have learned to keep one or two bottles of alcohol on handy for make shift molotovs. You see, because of the fungal sheet armour, the bloater is virtually impenetrable by bullets. The fastest, and most effective way to kill a bloater is to set it on fire. This will char the fungi, weakening it and thus allowing our bullets to have an impact. Another important thing about bloaters is that they tend to launch balls of spores from their body at you, which are highly infectious. They explode like little bombs, so if you ever come across one; put your damned gas mask on. Too many people have died because of those things.

"Look!" She shouts, rolling up her sleeve to reveal a massive bite mark on her right forearm.

"I don't care how you got infected!" I yell impatiently, loosing my nerve all together, dropping my gun and turning to face Cook. He still has his gun raised - rain thumping down on his matted, sandy blonde hair - and looks to me out of the corner of his eye with his eyebrow raised; as if asking me why the fuck I lowered my weapon._ I don't want to know the answer to that one._

"No, _look _at it. Its three weeks old!"

"Impossible!" Cook shouts angrily, cocking his gun at her to show his impatience. "Everyone turns after two days-"

"Cook..." She says defeatedly "Look at it, it's already scabbed over. Three weeks."

I turn around, and reach for her arm hastily. She's right, it has already scabbed over, and actually looks like its healing. There are callouses forming already. After looking her arm over, my body registers first what my mind seems to have missed; my hand is tingling with heat and electricity. I let go of her arm quickly, and am thankful that it looks like a sign of annoyance rather than fear. _What the fuck was that all about?_

Cook seems to finally register what she is saying, and drops his gun slowly. Angry at whatever the hell those tinglies were that I felt in my body, I snap. "I'm not fucking buying it," I start, and as I turn my head I notice a glimmer of light coming over the hill to our right.

"Oh, shit. Cook, RUN!" I shout, it's those soldiers' reinforcements. Cook scoops Emily up and makes a mad dash down the mud drenched hill to our left, and I follow suit. Luckily for us, the outside world isn't as 'put together' as it once was, as we dash down the hill towards an open storm drain. He shuffles me and Emily inside first, and follows quickly behind us. Fortunately for me and Emily, we are small enough to maneuver around here rather comfortably, but Cook is struggling; his broad shoulders getting in the way of speed.

We must have been crawling for at least thirty minutes, because I have survivor stamina; but at this rate I could definitely use a break. Just as I am about to shout to Cook, I see some moonlight and hear a bit of rain ahead. I stop abruptly, causing a humourous case of face-to-butt dominos to take place, and I let out a frustrated _'oomph' _at the impact.

"Emily. It's an exit, not an entrance, yeah? Get your face out of my ass."

She looks at me, her face full of shock, as I watch her register my cheeky remark. Of course, Cook finds the humour first and bellows with laughter. Emily is having none of it, though.

"Oh, I'm sorry," She starts, rather sarcastically. "I couldn't tell that the thing I ran into - because you so rudely stopped without warning - was your ass, seeing as how there is a giant stick protruding out of it." _Well, hello witty come back. _

"HOLY HELL RED!" Cook laughs hysterically. "Fookin' tip top, mate!" He is one loud mouthed man, and the fact that we are on hands and knees in a filthy storm drain made of metal and rubber amplifies the sound in here times one hundred.

"Shut up, Cook" I say, as I turn back around to the opening a few yards from us. "There might be people up ahead; you twat." The fact that I am leading the pack allows me to successfully hide my blush - thank fuck - because I don't think I've ever quite gotten such a snip back before. Why is it making me smile? _Stop, it._

I lift my hand up to signal for Emily and Cook to stay still, as I crawl quietly towards the tunnel opening. I can see the faint outline of a boot, and an overwhelming smell of tobacco ushers into my nostrils. He's fucking smoking! How in the hell did he manage to find any of those? I am right at the tube exit now, and I see that his boot is pointed away from me, meaning that his back is to the exit. Perfect. I poke my head out to check for other soldiers, but I see that he is stupidly under-dressed; and alone. No helmet, no kneepads. just some cargo pants, a jacket and a vest, with a black bandana wrapped around his head. I reach into my belt and slowly pull out my trusty 17-inch Bowie Knife. I was my twentieth birthday present from Cook, gold plated handle with a black rubber grip, and topped off with a 12-inch shining silver blade. I can hear the sharp metal rubbing against the leather case as I slide it out from my right side, and for some reason, the sound makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. I can sense Emily stiffen behind me, even though she is several metres away from me, and I take in a deep breath of semi-tainted air before I snap my wrist quickly across the guys' ankle.

He yelps, dropping to the floor instantly in pain, and in one swift motion I am out of the drain pipe and injecting that very same blade into the side of his neck.

Silence.

His body slumps to the ground and I lower with him, placing my blade back in its home at my side quickly; and start looting the body of our star soldier, here. One standard police issue 9mm Baretta, two reload cartridges with 15 bullets each, a black Zippo lighter with a gold engraving of an anchor etched into it (ironic, seeing as how moms.. _my _necklace has a tall ship on it) and an EMPTY pack of cigarettes.

"This day keeps getting better and better." I mumble to myself, as I continue to search the body. Emily comes out, swiftly followed by Cook, and she stands there watching as Cook comes over to help me with the body.

"How can you do that?" She asks. _Do I detect sadness in her voice? _

"Do what?" I ask, not daring to bring my head up to meet her eyes.

"Kill people? You didn't know him. If you talked to him, he could've let us-"

"Stop." Cook cuts in. _Thank Christ he put on his big boy panties for this journey. I don't know how many more moral blows I can stand._

"We kill 'em because we have to, you get me? People ain't 'bout askin' questions and caring for the answers. It's kill, or be killed. And I'd much rather be one of the livin', comprende Emillio?"

She drops her gaze to the floor, and nods; seemingly loosing all the confidence for a scolding she had in her. Cook and I manage to get a few more useful things out of this soldier before we abandon his bloodied body to the night - surrounded by over grown shrubbery and a rain water filled road - and are about to make our way off when Emily sits down on the hood of an old, rusted out abandoned car; wringing her hands together and clearly distraught. Cook wastes no time bounding over to her, and crouches down on one knee so he is eye level with Emily.

"Look..." He begins. "...what was the plan, eh? Say we deliver you to the Butterflies, then what?"

She seems to calm down a little, but she is still avoiding eye contact, instead playing with the black string bracelet around her left wrist.

"Effy... she says they have their own quarantine zone... with labs, doctors still looking for a cure."

I pace around impatiently, looking between both Emily and Cook as their conversation unfolds. At Emily's words of a cure, I can't help the snide remark that escape me.

"Yeah, right. Sounds familiar, eh Cookie?" I bite sarcastically, but Cook doesn't respond. He is still focused on Emily, and squeezes her knee when she turns her gaze to shake her head disapprovingly at me.

"Whatever happened to me..." She trails off, running two fingers along the bite on her arm "...they think it's the key to finding a vaccine."

"Ha, right-"

"It's what she said." Emily cuts me off, matter of fact-ly.

"I'm sure she did." I retort, narrowing my eyes at her.

Emily snaps at this point, standing up and gritting her teeth at me. "Hey! FUCK _YOU_ bitch, I didn't ask for this!"

Cook rises to his feet, and I send dismissive body language Emily's way as I wave her off and turn to Cook. "What are we going to do about this, Cook? I-"

"What if its true, Naomio?"

"It's not-"

"What if, Naomi. We've come this far, let's just finish it."

I'm not having any of this. I grab his arm harshly, and lead us a little ways away from Emily so I can speak my next sentence through gritted teeth. "Need I remind you _what_ is out there?"

He pulls his arm out of my grasp, looks at me for a moment, before turning his head around to look at Emily. She is clearly confused, I mean how couldn't she be? She obviously has been hidden and housed inside the zones her whole life.

"I get it." Is all he says, as he turns his head back to meet my gaze. Then, after an unspoken eye-to-eye showdown between us, he walks away. He is going to do what he wants, and what he wants to do is deliver Emily. Ever the defiant, my mate James is. I raise my arms in defeat and shake my head to the sky, and as I lower my gaze back to the ground, Emily passes by me to follow Cook. She shakes her head as she walks past me - eyes on Cook - and I have no choice but to follow them.

'

'

Cook wants to cut through Downtown, says it will get us to the museum by sunrise. Its risky business, cutting through the city. More of a chance that we will run into some... thing. I am thankful he got me a denim shirt, because the amount of freezing rainwater that has pelted down on me tonight would be enough to turn me into a Naomi-cicle. I am a little worried about Emily though, not that I would ever admit it. All she is wearing is a long sleeved doubled up with a short; she must be freezing. But as I watch her, I never see her shiver. We've walked in silence for the last couple hours or so, making our way through the barren wasteland that used to be people's homes, streets that used to be riddled with people on their commutes to work are now empty and over run with plant life. To think, that giant highrise leaning against its neighbouring tower used to house thousands of people; families. There used to be pictures hanging on walls, obsessive macho men outside washing their cars, women going for jogs (though I never understood how you could enjoy exerting yourself like that) and kids playing with bubbles in the park. Everything is rusted out and broken, garbage and blood litter the streets, and I can't help but compare the way it looks to a music video I saw way back in the day about being lost in the echo. Though, I haven't the slightest idea where linkin park is.

"Damn, that's quite a drop." I hear Cook say, a few feet ahead of me. How I ended up at the back of this pack, well lets just say the one at the back this time is the least popular. He and Emily crouch down to look at something, and its only when I get closer that I see what they are talking about. A big, gaping hole spanning thousands of feet wide, and deep, is what all the fuss is about. It looks something like the ground collapsed beneath itself, several buildings have broken into a million pieces and now line the bottom of this giant pit that used to be part of Downtown. I bet if you took an aerial picture right now, it would look something like ground zero of 911.

"We need to find a way around this mess." Cook says, his eyes moving back and fourth over the scene in front of him.

"Look," I point past a broken building "there's the museum. Let's cut through this building."

There is a high rise to our right, though it is a tricky thing to suggest a route through it as it looks about to collapse at any second. Cook nods to himself, stands up, and bounds over to the building with a fire beneath his ass. He kicks the door open violently, causing the building to moan with pressure.

"Cook..." I begin.

"Yeah, yeah Blondie. Keep your vagina on. In 'ere, red." Cook ushers Emily inside the building and follows suit without a second glance back at me. _So much for team Campbell_, I think to myself._ I'll have to find a name for the two new besties. _

We make our way through the building, Cook and Emily making the only conversation. They seem to have bonded over Effy somehow, Cook revealing that he's been rather 'enchanted' with Effy since they met.

"Yeah," Emily laughs. "She has that effect on people..."

"But you know her, yeah? Is she wiv anyone?"

Emily drops her head to the floor, and starts to play with her bracelet again. _Nervous tick, I see._

"She was. Katie..."

"Huh?" Cook stops short to face Emily. I continue searching the rooms they walk past for anything useful, but stop in the doorway so I can hear their conversation a little better.

"My older sister, Katie. They met at a ration station a while back. Katie and I have always been on our own, since the outbreak. She's kept me safe..." she seems to be lost in thought, before she quickly recovers and continues.

"...Anyways. We were at a ration station one day and the soldiers decided there was no more food left. Though there was plenty, judging by the huge, unopened crates labelled 'food' to the back of their camp." She stops to take a breath, and continues her sentence; chuckling as she does so.

"Katie always had a big mouth," She laughs, and shakes her head humorously.

"So she gave me the little loaf of bread they handed her and tried to get more food for me. They pulled a gun on her, and Effy intervened. It was strange, I watched it... it was like slow-motion. All Effy did was place her hand on Katie's shoulder and it was like a wave rushed over her body; you could literally see it happen. Long story short, Effy gave me and Katie her portion of food and the rest is history; they were together ever since. It's kind of cheesy, but they were good together. Katie said everything Effy didn't, and Effy said everything Katie couldn't. They even did this thing... They bartered off of this guy, gave him ration cards for two gold rings he had. They hung them on chains around their necks, like a hidden marriage."

Emily takes in a slow, sad sigh and says quietly, "Effy wears both of theirs, now."

I couldn't believe it. I've known Effy for years, but I never knew she was married to this Katie girl. Well, as married as you can be in this world. So what happened to her? Cook asks the question out loud that I asked in my brain, and I mentally scold him for being so insensitive. I hear Emily take a deep breath, and a few sniffles escape her as she says quietly:

"She was murdered."

According to Emily, their butterfly camp was raided about 5 months ago. I heard about it, those things are never kept quiet when you're in a quarantine zone run by the very same soldiers that raided that particular camp. Effy, Katie and Emily were tucked up safe for the night (or so they thought) when everything went to hell. Apparently, the soldiers lit the barracks on fire to smoke everyone out for a free-for-all target practice. The three of them managed to escape out the back door, but Effy being the ever-so-cunning one, told Emily to stay behind for a minute so they could make sure the coast was clear for them to make a run for it. Well, there was a soldier there that caught Effy and Katie on the way out. He wanted Effy, because she is the leader, and took no interest in Katie. So he shot Katie square in the head, in front of Effy. From what Emily could gather, this sent Effy reeling and she killed the armed soldier with her bare hands. Emily could hear the screams, could hear everything, but didn't dare come out of her hiding spot until she was sure she heard no movement.

"I came out, and Effy was just... sitting there. On the ground, holding onto Katie and... it just looked so morbid. The soldier was on the ground, and I couldn't even recognize his face. There was a wrench a few metres from his body, soaked in brain matter and blood. Effy was covered in blood from head to toe, and all I could see was red and blue. Her blue eyes were all that contrasted the blood on her face, and the streams of tears seemed to uncover some skin color under her eyes. She didn't speak a word. Just cried, and held onto Katie."

I decided to come out of my hiding spot then, and I'm ashamed to say my heart broke as my eyes fell on the image of my crying red head... _Fuck. __**THE **__crying red head._

"She hasn't been the same since that night, and has sworn to protect me to honour Katie."

Cook listens to her intently, and when he is sure she is done talking, he envelops her into one of his Cook bear hugs. He lifts her off the ground, and squeezes the life out of her.

"I'm sorry, Red" He whispers into her ear, before kissing her forehead. "Dear ol' Katiekins would have made one hell of an addition to our little family of misfits. Ain't that right, Naoms?" He places Emily down on the ground and they regard me with eager eyes, so I just nod to him and send a small smile Emily's way.

Unfortunately our little 'love fest' is interrupted shortly after, as we make our way down the hallway and into the stairwell.

"Fuck." I gasp, there is a dead clicker in the way, spread along the exit door.

"What... what the fuck is that?" Emily half shouts, and I reach down, ripping the clicker from its final resting place to reveal the door handle.

"Clicker." I reply nonchalantly.

I know Emily is confused, so as I carve away the sprouting fungus from the door handle, Cook decides to explain to her what our little friend is.

"That there, is what years of infection'll do to ye."

"So... it was a... person? What's wrong with its face-"

"Their blind," He begins, the door is almost clear now. "They see using sound-"

"Like bats?" Emily enquiries. I can practically _feel_ the Cheshire grin form on Cooks face at that one. He loves to teach as much as he likes intelligent questions and remarks. He probably would have been a teacher, I think. Well, most likely a drug dealer; if the world didn't turn to shit that is. Me on the other hand? Well, knowing how humourously cruel people and God can be, I probably would have ended up dying from cancer or something. I guess surviving a zombie apocalypse is better alternative to that scenario, no?

"Exactly." Cook winks at her. "It sounds like clicking. And don't make me repeat myself on this, but when you hear one; you gotta hide. That's how they spot ye."

"Got it." Emily smiles, tapping her temple as she does so. The door is clear now, time for some good ol' fashion elbow grease. I stand back, and rush the door with my shoulder. The door breaks free, and I stumble out into the corridor. It only took one try, and I am slightly gleeful as I turn back around to Cook with a smug smile on my face. Just then, Cook's face goes from a smile, to pure horror as he shouts:

"NAOMI!"

In a matter of milliseconds I am thrust to the ground from my right side, and hear the unmistakable screech of a clicker barreling on top of me. I instinctively grab the thing around its neck with both hands, to keep it from chomping down on my face. its face is mere centimetres from mine, and the sick stench of foul, rotting breath fills my senses. My eyes start to water from the smell, and I close my eyes as I see Cooks' giant steel-toed boot come into contact with the clickers' face. I feel the pressure of the giant body lift off of me, and I feel Emily's soft arms wrap around me as I hear two shots fire out of Cooks' gun.

"Are you okay?!" Emily pants, as she lifts me into a sitting position. She is checking me over for any signs of injury, and her gentleness makes me uncomfortable. I grab for her hands and move them away from me, muttering half-heartedly "It's nothing."

Cook comes over, and reaches his hand out to me, which I happily take as he springs me to my feet.

"That was a close one, eh Blondie?" He jokes, wiping dirt off my shoulder as he does so.

"Thanks." I utter back, and he nods happily.

"How 'bout you, Emillio man?" Cook shouts over his shoulder.

"Other than shitting my pants?" She responds honestly, taking a deep breath. "I'm fine."

'

'

"I was thinkin'..." Cook says, after what's felt like a few hours of agonizing clamoring up walls and scaffolding that we have no business walking on.

"When this is all over. We should lay low. Maybe spend some energy trying to get a nice shag or two from a pretty bird. What ye say, Blondie?"

"Ha," I scoff. "You? Laying low? you always brush me off when I mention it."

"Well," Cook replies, grunting as he climbs his way over a big, steel pipe. "I won't this time."

;

;

We've managed to get a good amount of distance in during the night, and we've ended up in a tube tunnel. There are bricks and papers everywhere, old faded posters plastered on the tube walls, and the only light is the ones from Cook and I's flashlights. Emily has been silent for a while now, following along like a robot. She must be tired, we all are.

Cook is a little ways ahead, I can see him by his flashlight. "Eh, Blondie. Over 'ere." Cook ushers me over and I stop, looking at what he is pointing out to me. The dead, ravaged body of a man lays strewn across the ground, a small patch donned on his left bicep.

"A butterfly." I sigh. "These guys aren't doing well outside the city, either."

"I hope there's someone left to meet us at this drop off." Cook replies, concern etched into his features. His concern, however, is short lived. As we round the corner, we can hear several different sets of clicking noises.

"Shit!" He whispers. "We're almost out!" He shakes his head, and turns to a crouched down Emily. "You," He orders. "Follow Blondie. Stay **right** on her heels, you get me?"

She nods, and shuffles closer to me, while he turns to me and says "We're going to sneak past 'em. I'll take the left side while you take the right. You **don't **move until I've thrown something at 'em to distract 'em; savvy?"

I nod in response, and usher Emily with me into our ready position on the right side of the tube exit. As if in perfect sequence, as Cook throws bottles and bricks to distract the clickers, me and Emily make our way to the exit. Smash, move. Smash, move. It takes several minutes for us to reach our destination, and if it wasn't for the fact that we could be ripped apart in mere seconds by these clickers if we are not careful, I would be having a hard time concentrating because of Emily's proximity to me. I can feel the heat radiating off of her, and the smell of her perspiration smells kind of... _sweet. Fuck.__** STOP**__ it, Naomi. _

"Holy shit," Emily pants, as Cook and I seal off the tube tunnel exit; thwarting off any chance of those clickers following us into the outside world. "We actually made it! You guys are good at this stuff."

"No." I snap impatiently. "We're _lucky. _And that luck WILL run out."

;

;

We make our way through a few alley ways, and reach a garage door. I take it upon myself to start pulling at the chain to pull the door up, but Cook says he heard something.

"I don't hear anything?" I say, stopping my pulls on the metal chains. Cook listens, and pats me on the shoulder. "Faster, babe."

I use all my strength to open the door, and I can hear them now. The screams and bellows of what sounds like many runners are gaining on us, and the group is panicking. "Emily! get under!" Cook orders, as he shuffles her under the garage door. He follows her, and grabs at the door from the bottom and yells for me to follow. I see the infected now, sprinting at me with full force. I let go of the chain, and bolt under the door, feeling one of them grip my boot as Cook drops the door down to the floor.

"Fuck!" I gasp, jumping to my feet. The sound of ten angry and infected runners slamming against the metal door is enough to scare the shit out of anyone, as we all stand there; staring at the door like it is going to burst open at any second.

"Uhm..." Emily starts, pointing to my foot and looking away. "You have a little... something... on your boot."

I look down, and see that there is a severed hand clasped tightly around my right boot. I kick it off, and repress the urge to laugh at the ridiculous-ness of it.

"Gross." I hear Emily murmur, as the severed hand goes flying towards the garage door.

"Come on." Cook starts, patting me on the back and making his way to the door. "Let's keep moving."

;

;

There are a few blocks of wood blocking our way through the corridor, so I pull at one of the wood pieces to usher Cook and Emily through the hole first. Cook goes first, followed by Emily, and suddenly the ceiling collapses above me.

"Naomi!" I hear Cook shout, as I am slammed back by the falling debris. I cough the dirt out of my lungs, and manage an "I'm fine!" Before I hear Emily scream.

"Cook! RUN!" I hear scampering and screams of a group of infected rush into the room, and Cook makes a mad dash away with Emily. I get to my feet, and search anywhere for a way out. I manage to squeeze out through a tiny hole in the floor boards, and search for any signs of Cook and Emily. I run upstairs after checking the main floor, and see a runner slamming crazily against a closed and locked door. _Cook _I think to myself, and grab at a metal pipe on the floor to my left. I walk up to the runner - determined - as I raise the pipe above my head. I scream out as I slam the pipe down onto his head, and he falls to the floor; still. His head is smashed in on the side where I hit him, and I kick open the door. Inside, I find Cook struggling with another infected, and as I shout his name out, he kicks the runner away and smashes it's head in with a wooden slat. The slat breaks, and I hear Cook gasp in some air. I rush over to him, but before I have time to do anything else, we hear Emily cry out.

"Guys! Help me!"

Cook and I waste no time running to where we heard Emily, and find her on the ground, struggling with a runner on top of her. I run over to her, grab the runner by the throat, and squeeze a choke hold around his neck until blood comes out of his eyes. I drop his limp body to the ground, and rush over to Emily. I pull her up onto her feet, and check her over to make sure there are no bites.

"Bit redundant at this point, isn't it love?" Emily says playfully to me. Fuck, she's right. She's already been bitten. I stop scanning her over right away, and turn my attention to Cook.

"Are you-"

"Fine, Blondie. Let's find a way out of here, eh?"

;

;

We make our way to the roof of the building, and as we open the door, the cool light of sunrise has made its way over the horizon. The museum is in full view now, all we have to do is find a way up onto the roof of the neighbouring building and climb down the scaffolding on the other side. I search the roof for something, and end up finding a long, wooden board. _Perfect_ I think to myself, as I grab it and place it over the space between the two roofs.

Emily comes eagerly to my side, and I reach my hand out to her in assistance as I speak my next sentence. "Be careful, now. This board could be a bit-"

"Pfft." She cuts me off, dismissing my hand altogether and climbing up onto the board. I look to Cook in shock, and he just shrugs at me. _So much for bonding over near-death experiences._

She makes her way across the board effortlessly, and leans her body resting on her elbows against the edge of the rooftop, gazing out at the sunrise on the horizon. I make my way across it, followed by Cook; and make my way over to Emily's side.

"Well, is it everything you hoped for?" I ask, motioning to the sight before us.

She looks me in the eye - which unsettles me quite a bit - as she holds my gaze. A few moments later, she looks back to the sunrise and shrugs.

"Jury's still out. Can't deny that view, though. Can you?" I look out to the sunset, as she looks at me. Cook comes between us, placing his huge arms over both of our shoulders and smiles.

"Enjoy the little things, eh Red?"

;

;

We are on the front road of the museum now, and there is a pool of water blocking our way to the front doors of the museum.

"Uhm, just so it's out there... I can't swim." Emily says, rather hesitantly.

Cook groans to himself, and ushers her over to him. "It's fine. Looks shallow from this side. Jump on my back, I'll swim us over."

For some reason, I'm rather jealous I didn't come up with that idea first, and push away my disdain for watching Emily clamour up onto Cooks back as I swim my way over the massive pool of rain water. We make it to the other side swiftly, and Cook doesn't look amused when he reaches the end; red faced and panting. Emily decides to break the silence:

"I'm glad Effy hired you guys..."

"What do you mean?" I ask, taking the struggling words out of Cooks mouth; which he sends me a smile indicating he is grateful for it.

"I know you guys are getting paid for this, but... Look, I'm trying to say thanks."

"Yeah, sure thing." I manage a smile Emily's way, and her face lights up ten-fold. I find it rather beautiful, how her face looks when she smiles. I wish I could see that every day.

We make our way up the steps to the museum, and rush through the doors quickly and less-than tactfully. We enter through the open doors, and find one lonely body of a dead butterfly. Cook pushes past me rather forcefully, his voice getting louder as he yells out. "No. No, NO!"

He kneels down beside the body of the dead butterfly, and slams his fists down on the hard concrete.

"NO! It bloody can't be!" He shouts, rummaging through the dead butterfly's corpse. I close the door behind me, and Emily whispers "What do we do now?"

My focus is on Cook, who is acting hugely out of character.

"What are you doing, James." My use of his first name should be enough to grab his attention, but it isn't.

"Oh god," I hear him mumble. "Maybe they... A map, maybe they left a map..."

"How far are we going to take this, Cook?-"

"As far as we have to!" Cook shouts frantically.

He perks his head up, gaze set firmly on Emily. "Where was this lab of theirs?"

She shifts uncomfortably, and splutters out "I... She never said... Some place out west-"

I decide to chime in, there is something terribly wrong here. Cook and I remain neutral on jobs, we never het attached and most certainly do not fall apart over a job gone wrong. "Cook, what is this? This isn't us-"

He rises to his feet in anger. "What do you know about us, Naomi? About me?"

His words cut like daggers, and I have no choice but to let him have this one. He and I have always had tension around the subject of the world, me believing we are in hell and behaving like demons where as he believes we do what we have to do; that we are still decent people.

"I know you are smarter than _this, _Cook. We are shitty people, okay? It's been that way for a long ti-"

"No, we are survivors, Naomi! this is our chance!" He snaps.

"IT IS _OVER_, COOK!" I snarl. I've had it with all this 'cure' and 'vaccine' talk. Even if we somehow managed to create a cure, the world is too far gone for civilization to restore the balance it has lost. Cook and I continuously argue on this topic as well.

"Now, we tried." I soften a little, but still keeping stone. "But it's done. Let's go home."

"I'm not..." He stutters. "I'm not going anywhere." He drops his hands at his sides in defeat, and turns away from me; breaking our eye contact. _What the fuck is going on with him?_

"This is my last stop." I hear him say over his shoulder. I lift my head to the sky in frustration, and snap my head back at him when he said those last words.

"What?" I ask, shaking my head at him in confusion.

"Our luck had to run out, Blondie."

"What are you talking about?" I stammer, walking right up to him and placing my hand on his arm. At the contact, he snaps, batting my hand away and shouting,

"Don't! Don't... _touch_ me."

"Holy shit." I hear Emily gasp over my shoulder. I turn my head to her as something registers in her mind that has seemingly escaped mine.

"He's infected."

I can't believe it. I turn back to Cook, and he doesn't dare make eye contact with me. He looks, defeated. I've never seen him like this as he drops his gaze and plays with the broken watch around his wrist. It registers then, and I take a few steps back from him slowly.

"Naomi-"

"Let me see it." I order, shock and fear flowing through my body at crippling speed. He looks into my eyes for a few moments, then pulls back on the collar of his red wind-breaker forcefully to reveal a large, bloody bite mark.

"Oh, Christ!" I breathe, eyes bulging out of my head. _It's all over._

"Oops, right?" Cook retorts harshly. He looks over to Emily, and bounds over to her. "Give me your arm." He instructs, and she does so without hesitation. He pulls her over to me, and pulls up on her sleeve.

"This was three weeks!" He shouts shakily. "I was bitten an hour ago, and it's already worse! **This**," He points to Emily's arm again. "Is fucking _real, _Naomi!"

He drops her arm and walks up to me, grabbing my shoulders for emphasis. "You have **got **to get this girl to Freddie's. He used to run with the butterflies, he will know where their fookin' lab is."

"No, no no." I stammer. "That was _your _crusade, I want no part of this. I don't have to-"

"Yes, you do!" he shouts, pleading with me as he gets closer to me. "Look," He starts, hands up, begging me to hear him. "There is enough **here," **he motions between us as he talks,** "**that you must feel _some_ obligation to me, alright?" He steps back, and points to Emily while looking me straight in the eye.

"You get her to Freddie's."

I am about to open my mouth, when I hear the roar of an engine coming from the front doors of the museum.

"Shit!" He yells, grabbing at Emily and pushing her towards me. "I can buy you some time," He starts, pulling out his side arm. "But you have to run."

"No-" I start.

"You want us to just leave you here?" Emily cuts in shakily.

"Yes-" He says, about to emphasise; but I cut Cook off.

"There's no way that-"

It's Cooks turn to cut _me_ off. "I WILL_ NOT_ TURN INTO ONE OF THOSE THINGS!" He screeches at me, grabbing my arm. He places a few clips of bullets in my hand and kisses my temple.

"Come on, Blondie. Make this easy for me."

He stares into my eyes, and tears are welling up in his salty green orbs. _When did this happen? When did my world come crashing apart, again? _

_I can't let go. I just can't._ "I can stay and fight-"

"NO!" He shouts, pushing me back forcefully. He wipes away the tears that have fallen down his cheek and says, defeated.

"Just fucking go."

I take a few steps back, taking one last, long look at the best friend I have ever had. The man who has saved my life, the man who made this life worth living. He is about to die, and there is nothing I can do to stop it.

"Emily." I say.

"I'm so sorry... I didn't mean for this-" She pleads, and I cut her off.

"Get a move on." I spit forcefully, as I usher her through the next room. I hear Cook cock his gun, and prepare myself for what is about to come.

**Well, friends. I hope this explained everything to you that needed explaining. I was sad to make Katie deceased, because I love reading Keffy. But again, it had to be done. I miss Cook already :( Please let me know what you think, and if any of you need to let out your post-fire ranting, I am happy to oblige :) Please drop me a review? Your feedback is important to me.**

**Soon, darlings. **

**xoV**


	7. Chapter 7

**Hey to all of you :) **

**I hope this wasn't as agonizing a wait for you as it was for me to write it. Literally. I got shot a few times in the hand during paintball, and the colors it's turned into... not attractive AT ALL. I am a bit of a wuss though, so don't feel bad for me. I wrote this chapter mostly one handed, because that's how much I love you guys. The reviews I've received from every one of you are way too fucking kind - not to mention the loyal followers out there who seem to think I am somehow above mediocre in my writing skills - and I hope this chapter is worth the wait.**

"Fuck!" She shouts. "We just left him-"

"Stop it! Stay fucking close." I say angrily. I don't have time for this right now. For her irrational behaviors, for her peppy demeanour. Without Cook along on this journey, I am bloody terrified; I've never once been without him permanently. She's not exactly easy to travel with - her unwavering curiosity, and feisty attitude. She is rash, young, and bordering on stupid when it comes to survival. I am in for one fuck of a journey. And without Cook by my side, I feel... lost.

We weave our way silently through the building, and I can hear the distant roars of engines pulling up to the museum doors. There are men everywhere, soldiers with high powered rifles and anger management issues. As we make our way silently through a corridor, I see the body of a dead Butterfly soldier leaned against the wall. There is a buckshot to his face, and a pool of blood around his lifeless body. A few splatters of blood on the walls - indicating a brutal struggle - and to my pleasure; a hunting rifle strewn on the floor a few feet from him. I snatch it up quickly, and pull back the pin to see if it is loaded. There is one bullet in the chamber, as well as two on the floor a few metres from it. I cock the gun, and sling it around my shoulder as I check the soldiers' pockets for any more ammunition. He has a few more bullets - which I happily pocket - and a picture of him with a young boy. It must be his son, because they look a lot alike. The man has a thick build, a full blonde beard, and he is smiling into the camera with the boy on his shoulders. He looks happy, even though he is in full uniform. _This picture was taken recently_. I fold the photo back up and place it in his chest pocket, and turn to tell Emily something when I see her start to cry. She is staring at the soldier, and wipes at her eyes angrily.

"He... That's..." She wipes at her eyes again and takes in a sharp breath. "He has a son. Eleven years old, Ben."

"Emily," I whisper sharply. "This is not the time to care about fallen soldiers. Unless you want to join him in purgatory, move your ass."

i hear a disturbance down the hall, and quickly usher Emily into the next room. Sure enough, some clumsy soldier comes staggering out into the hallway, mumbling something incoherent and scratching at his... well. I'm sure you can figure that one out yourself. He walks past our room, and I check to make sure there is no one following behind him before I come out of the shadows. The coast is clear, so I quietly make my way up the back of the grungy soldier. He spits - much to my displeasure - before I pull the rifle butt above my head and strike him hard. He stumbles, but manages to keep his footing, which is **bad news. **I pull back again to swing at him, but he manages to duck out of the way and tackle me to the floor. He falls on top of me, and his breath is enough to make me wretch; a sick mixture of raw meat and house-made wine. He smiles sadistically at me, and holds the rifle to my neck, starting to apply more and more pressure. I reach my arms up as much as I can above my head, link my fingers together, and slam down on his elbows with as much force as I can muster with my limited air supply. His arms cripple, and the tension is relieved off my neck as I wriggle my way out from underneath him. I grab at the rifle, and sling it around his neck, choking him from behind. I feel the veins in my head pump with adrenaline, and I feel the muscles in my arms burn at the effort. _Keep pulling, _His hand wraps around my arm tightly. _Harder, _his grip tightens. _Almost fucking there, one last tug, _and his grip loosens slightly. A few moments, and his struggles weaken, as I pull back harder on his air flow, and he eventually looses himself altogether as he falls to the floor. I slump to the floor in exhaustion, and catch my breath as Emily quietly makes her way over to me. I get to my feet with a fair bit of effort, and we start down the hallway. Just as we are climbing out the main floor window, a group of soldiers smash through the doors and see us making our exit. I push for Emily to run as I leap out the window after her, and we head to a collapsed tube tunnel for cover, as they fire round after round at us. We run around a sharp corner and I stop so fast I fall backwards. _Spores_. I reach into my bag quickly and yell at Emily to stop before I put my gas mask on.

Emily however, hasn't stopped.

"Emily!" I shout frantically, one deep breath of spores is all it takes before you are infected and swimming with disease. I tumble into the next room, with my rifle in one hand - as I turn on my flashlight connected to my back pack arm with the other, and I see Emily standing in the middle of the green, fog dusted room.

"Em..." I say cautiously, raising my rifle to her head. _Nothing._

I've reached her now, and she hasn't moved a muscle. I press the tip of my rifle gently to the back of her head, and she stirs.

"Naomi..." She whispers. "There are men up ahead, can you see them? I don't... I don't think they can see me yet-" I grab her hand tightly, and usher us down behind an old magazine stand. I release her hand - after an odd feeling of fire rushing through me from the contact with her palms - and look into her eyes pointedly.

"How the fuck are you breathing right now?"

"Naomi, I wasn't lying to you." She says quietly. She doesn't break eye contact with me as I study her for a moment, and take in a deep breath as she nods towards the tracks; where there is an abandoned train and two men standing guard outside of it. It is really hard to see in here, and judging by the fact that we haven't been detected; I'd say they are near-sighted men. Two men are conversing beside the train, while one man - who looks like he is imagining being in a military movie, given his enthusiastic attempts at aiming his gun animatedly - patrols the station. I figure, if I can take him out quickly and quietly; we may be able to sneak past the other two undetected. I usher Emily inside the rusty mag stand, and tell her to keep still and quiet. The soldier gets closer, and I can hear the steady squish of his boots. Normally - if you weren't listening for it - you wouldn't be able to hear him; as he makes his way slowly and quietly towards me. But - thanks to that suicide bomber a few years back - I have something called Hyperacusis. I struggle with it, especially during a firefight, but it does help me to locate people more efficiently. I can hear someone's location a hundred metres from me, in which room; on which floor. It has its uses. One solid _crunch_ and I know he is three feet from me now. Four more bootsteps and he will be close enough to french kiss. I quickly move to the left side of the rack as he makes his way to the right, and I pull out my trusty knife from my hip sheath. I slink quietly so I am behind him, and in one quick breath; I am an inch from his back. I stand up quickly, reach my right hand around his mouth, as my left hand swipes quickly around his neck. He thumps to the floor in a loud _thud,_ but it does not alert his nearby friends. I crouch my way over to Emily, pull her out of her hiding place, and we jump down onto the tracks. The men are standing on the platform, so we place ourselves tightly against the wall - backs first - as we take small steps along the gravel floor.

We make our way out the other side of the train - quietly passing two blissfully unaware soldiers - and are welcomed by the sight of a sewage drain. It is about twenty feet wide, and the only way across is to swim.

"Uh, Naomi..." She starts quietly, but before she can get out another sentence; I dive into the water with a loud _splash. _It is bloody freezing, and the cold hits me instantly. But, it's clean; surprisingly. Sewer systems are no longer run with the usual 'waste'. It's now mostly rain water, which is kind of refreshing. Though, I definitely wouldn't drink it without boiling it first; but at least you don't smell foul after falling in. The foul is a gift from your own body. I bob up quickly for air, and hear Emily shout to me as I surface.

"Naomi, fucks sake! I can't swim, remember?" _How could I forget. _

"Don't get your knickers in a knot, Emily. Sit tight, I'll be right back." And with that, I dive down again, opening my eyes to the stinging water below. I am looking for something - anything - that I can use to float Emily over with. As I start to get low on air, I notice a wooden pallet underneath a piece of metal tubing. I swim down briskly, and pull the tubing up to release the wood. The pallet breaks away from its prison and floats to the surface; me swimming quickly after it. The pallet splashes to the surface as I follow, and take in deep lungfuls of air. After I have caught my breath, I swim the pallet over to a nervous looking Emily.

"Get on." I order, as I push the pallet firmly against the side; below Emily. She hesitates, and scratches at the back of her head before saying a timid "...Really?"

"Emily." I say sternly.

"Alright, Okay!" She says quickly, as she closes her eyes and jumps onto the board. It shifts a bit, causing her to shriek a little in terror, and I let out an animated sigh. I open my mouth to say something, but she beats me to it.

"Be careful, please." She looks over to me in pure panic, and I can't help but feel... something.

"I've got you." I blurt out, and mentally slap myself for being such a tit. _I've got you? God, such a tosser. _

I swim her over to the other side, and she jumps up quickly onto the platform. I push the board away, and pull myself out of the water effortlessly. Emily watches me intensely as I do this - though I'm not sure why - and we head towards the exit.

;

;

"Hey..." She starts, wringing her hands together as she tries to form her next sentence cautiously.

"Um, About Cook I... I don't really know-"

"Here's how all of _this_," I motion between the two of us angrily "Is going to play out. You don't mention Cook - **ever.** And keep your history to yourself. He may have wanted to know about you, but I sure don't."

She shifts uncomfortably on the spot, but at least has had the decency to keep her eyes away from mine. I reposition myself on the tree stump for a little more comfort, and rub at the back of my neck.

"One more thing. Don't tell anyone about your... _condition_. People will either think you're mental or try to kill you."

I see her nod in acknowledgment, and take the opportunity to look around us; to absorb the sights around me. It's full on daylight now, and there isn't a cloud in the sky. I can hear the distant buzzing of insects floating around, and the occasional croak of a frog. A long time ago, this would have been considered a nice day. Despite the night's rain, it isn't humid this morning. There is a slight breeze that occasionally flows underneath my shirt, relieving my skin of the heavy, denim fabric. I lean my head back a little, and relish the rays of sun on my face, before another thought hits me. No time like the present to assert dominance; as it were.

"You need to do as I say, when I say it." She looks up at me, and I continue.

"You do what I tell you, and we may just survive this little journey a day or two longer. Are we clear?"

She is pacing on the spot, but stops abruptly on my last words. I see her start to roll her eyes, but something makes her stop that action, and just nod in response. I grunt at her - albeit unattractively - to conjure up some form of verbal response, and I am rewarded with a sullen:

"Sure."

Of course, this aggravates me more.

"Repeat it." I order, and scare myself a little at the tone in my voice.

She takes a deep breath, rests her hands on her hips, and says with the utmost detachment: "What you say, goes."

I let out an agitated laugh, at the simplicity of her words. _Way to sum it all up, Fitch. Growing up with Effy Stonem is showing - a bit. _

"Good." I say, as I stand up slowly.

I recognize our surroundings, we are only a few miles south of the house I used to live in with my mother. White trim, horrid yellow donned outside, the walls painted with the pictures of the many waifs and strays we housed over the years. My mother took pride in helping people, and took pictures of everything. And I mean that, in the full sense. I remember one year, she took in a dog, and photographed it's first... bowel movement. Every time I opened the fridge, I saw that dog._ Fucker still haunts me in my dreams. _

I had this friend, a few years older than I was, back in the old days. He wasn't much of a friend, mostly because he was quite... odd. He had a tendency to drabble about useless facts and had a love for magic, which was one of the only reasons I spent any time with him. He spit fire this one year, I think I peed my pants. Anyways, because of his handicaps, he was held back in grades frequently, making him a few years older than his fellow classmates. It never landed him any friends, and eventually - due to the torment from other kids at school - he became a recluse. He hated people, and he hated the world even more, but for some reason; he found comfort in Gina. She was always able to calm him down, and he loved her Victoria Sponge. If he would go anywhere, it would be somewhere familiar to him, somewhere he knew best. And knowing him, somewhere he felt possessive about. He always felt possessive over Gina, even to the extreme of me; if she greeted me with a longer hug than him, he'd get agitated. My mother thought he was insanely smart - though his own mother thought he was a nightmare - and got one of her friends to show him around an auto garage for the summer. He loved to build things, and from what I can remember, he was quite talented for his age. I have to take this chance, because he was a genius with cars, especially the old rusted out junk heap Kieran called a 'reliable automobile' he used to drive around in. If my childhood companion could keep _that_ piece of junk running, he could fix anything. And we need a car for this. I know I won't be able to make it to wherever Freddie is holed up on foot, and I most certainly won't be placing her in my pocket when she becomes too tired, either.

"There's a... town. A few miles north of here with this guy." I struggle with telling her more information, and decide to settle with what I've told her.

"We're gonna need a car, too long a journey for your short, little legs."

She doesn't laugh at this, though part of me didn't think she would. But she doesn't send a sharp reply, either. Just replies with a quiet "Okay."

As we start to walk again, there is an uneasy air around us. Most likely from Cooks' passing. The sad part is, I can't help but find his end quite, fitting. He always was one for the dramatic. He took a liking to Emily quickly, that much I know. His reasoning for that, I'll never know. She seems shaken up about it, inhaling deep sighs occasionally or opening her mouth to say something, but the words never come to the surface. I am grateful for her keeping to herself, but part of me is angry. I don't need her pity, and I certainly don't need her to mourn Cook. She barely knew him, and the fact that she feels the need to... makes my blood boil. I know she has sensed my temperament, because she hasn't said much the whole time. This is going to take us a few hours, give or take if we run into some trouble, so I need to calm myself down if I don't want to strangle the girl who could be responsible for 'The Cure'. Though, what will happen when there is a vaccine? There are a few possible outcomes. One -_ the Butterflies will become the new world leaders and hold the vaccine hostage for power_. Two - _They will disperse it accordingly, and everyone will just go back to being __**human **__monsters_. Or Three - this one is my personal favourite._ Civilization will go back to normal, and there will be a rise in need for personal psychiatrists_. Are you fucking joking? The world doesn't get cured by a vaccine. No one seems to understand that; even Cook. He thought that we would become a society again, where people said 'please' and 'thank you', and put muzzles on their pit bulls. That was never going to happen. That meteor wiped out the dinosaurs, this virus wiped out humanity.

;

;

The sun has start to set, and I can see the towns' edge start to form on the horizon. I see the familiar sight of the old water tower ahead, and point to it for Emily.

"There," I say, as I place my hands over the metal edge of the road railings. "That's where we need to go." I look down into the over-grown shrubbery and decide that this route through the trees will be a much faster one than staying on the road. It is getting dark soon, and we need to make up as much ground as possible before nightfall. I launch myself over the railing, and land with a soft _thud _on the grassy spot below.

"It'll be faster through here," I call up to her. "Come on."

She places her hands on the railings the same way I did, and I can see her contemplating her next move. I take this opportunity to drink a few giant gulps of water before she lands next to me; falling forward at her momentum. I grab at her backpack to level her out, and she finds her balance on her feet. I place my water back in my pack, and we start to walk through the woods. The soft crunching of leaves and twigs under our feet is a nice sound, I remember that sound from camping. There was a small section of woods behind my house, and I would camp out there sometimes when my mom took in more people than we could house. It was nice, one of the few times I got her to myself during that time of our lives. She would make a small fire, and I would roast marshmallows as she played acoustic guitar around the flames.

"Woah..."

"What?" I ask.

"Sorry, nothing. It's just... I've never been in the woods before."

We walk through a medium sized puddle, and it's actually quite pretty the way the sunset reflects off the water. The trees are flowing gently with the breeze, and there are a few dragonflies that seem to be rather curious of us. Orange and pink race each other across the sky and the bright yellow ring around the sun looks rather, ominous.

"My mom she... she owned a salon. Not the type of woman who took kindly to getting dirty. My dad would have taken me, but my mom said it wasn't lady-like and-"

"Emily." I cut in. "I don't want to hear it, okay?"

I hear her sigh, and pick up speed behind me. "Why don't you just take me back to Effy?"

"If she was up to the task, then why would she hire me to escort you?"

"Maybe she's recovered now." Emily says matter of fact-ly.

"Effy's chances of survival were slim to begin with. I'm surprised she's lasted this long."

She laughs at this, much beyond my understanding, and replies confidently:

"She's a lot tougher than you think."

**Thank you for reading, I hope this tides you over and prepares you for some interesting times ahead, some old faces will be returning with new characteristics. As always, please review, or let me know if I should close up shop and disappear so you can read REAL fics. I'm totally cool with honesty, guys. :P**

**Oh, by the way. This isn't a plug AT ALL, but if this chapter didn't cure your craving, I did write a Keffy one-shot tie into this. It's a little back story of how Effy met our lovely Fitches from Effy's POV, so if that is something you want to know about, it is called _When She Was One Of The Living_. Feel free to read it if you haven't already, and reviews (as you know) are welcomed with open arms :)**

**Be back in a jiff xoV**


	8. Chapter 8

**Sorry. Really. It's the only thing I can say at this point. I re-wrote this chapter like, three times. So there was a 'whacker load' of editing, as Panda would say. ****I re-read every single review on this story before I wrote the chapter (for the umpteenth time), and it literally knocked the words back into my head; so thank you :) I also have to pinch myself. I've received a few amazingly sweet PM's from some of you, and this is my thank you. I love you guys. **

**PS - Sending all my love to those of you (you know who you are) that I am lucky enough to call my friends. I could never thank this site enough for bringing you into my life, and I don't know what I would do without you. xox**

"Woah, Naomi look!"

I turn around, expecting there to be some kind of decaying body sprouting... something, that would make Emily curious enough to draw my attention to it, but instead; the sight I take in before me is one I never thought I'd ever see.

"A butterfly..." She whispers. "...A real one."

She is standing there, no muscle in her body daring to make a movement - her arm stretched out in front of her - with a bright blue butterfly in the open palm of her hand. She is studying it with so much intensity, so much happiness. I haven't seen a butterfly in ages, so I step towards her - quietly - to take a closer look. She stares at the insect and a wide smile spreads across her lips, as her eyes revert quickly over the tiny being; as if she is taking mental pictures. My close proximity enables me to study the tiny being. The color is deep towards the head of the insect, almost so dark it is black. As the color spreads across the wings, it gets lighter - almost the color of the sky - as it tips off into white, diamond shaped points. In the palm of her tiny hand the butterfly looks massive, as it stares back at Emily without a sound. The occasional jerk of a wing let's us know the insect is still alive, as it sits motionless in Emily's hand. I don't notice Emily's gaze shift to me, as I am still studying the butterfly.

"Are you lost with me?"

Her voice is barely above a whisper, but it startles me as if she just shouted at me through a megaphone. I'm stiff at her words, and I'm not quite sure how to respond as I meet her gaze. She is staring at me, staring _into _me, as her dark eyes sparkle with something I'm not quite sure of. Whatever this moment is, _wherever _she is right now - that place; I don't like it. She makes me feel like I am treading on dangerous territory - like I'm floating in the sea without a life vest - and that is not something I've grown accustomed to. That feeling of insecurity, followed by scrutiny. It's my own demons that make me think the worst of someone's gaze, and Emily is so terrifyingly bare; that she frightens me to my very core. The butterfly deciding to make its grand exit is a very welcome distraction, as I use ever fibre inside of me to tear my eyes away from hers; and watch the insect as it flies away.

"It's jammed from the other side."

Her eyes dilate then, returning to normal as she blinks a few times. My words have startled her out of a haze, something imagined and most likely impenetrable.

"What?" she squeaks.

"The door?" I say sarcastically. "We need to find another way into town."

She shifts into this new realm of communication - the moment waving as it passes her by - and she seems to mull my words over for a minute; as she searches the yard around us.

"Boost me up." She says after a few more seconds, enthusiastically, as she briskly walks past me towards the gates. I follow her to the doors, and I follow her gaze to the top of the gate. There is barbed wire covering most of the top, with a little free space at the center of the two doors. Just enough for the tiny red headed girl to squeeze through; but it is way too dangerous for my liking.

"That's not such a good idea..." I start to argue, because if she is unable to open the doors or if she gets attacked; I have no way to get to her.

"Well, I can't exactly boost _you _up. How else are we supposed to get through?"

I dismiss her with a wave and start to walk away, as I throw "We'll find another way." over my shoulder. I stop abruptly when I start to hear a noise.

"Emily! What the fuck?" I turn around quickly and see her attempting to climb the fence surrounding the doors, as the heavy clinks of her movements echo through the air. This is definitely not a good idea.

"You're stubborn, and I'm tired." She says, struggling to climb the chain link fence. "I'm not walking around to find another way in. Boost me up, or I'm climbing. You decide."

She is halfway up by now, and I groan in frustration as the word "Fine." comes out of my mouth. This girl is frustrating, and she definitely doesn't make my job any easier. She stops climbing, and looks at me expectantly.

"What?" She asks smugly.

"I said, _fine."_ I bite back the strongest anger in my words, as she starts climbing her way back down. I position myself into a solid stance as she jumps down to the floor, the soft _thud_ from her landing bringing some dirt loose beneath her feet. I bend my knees, press my back flat against the doors, and link my hands together. "Give me your foot." I order, as I reach my linked hands out to her. She comes up to me and smiles, as she places her right hand on my shoulder and lifts her left foot into my hands. She is surprisingly light, I don't struggle as I lift her up, straightening my legs out and raising my arms up effortlessly.

"Just open it, don't go off _exploring._" I instruct, as she reaches the top of the gates.

"Sure thing." She breathes, as she positions herself atop the doors; legs dangling off either side. She looks down at me, gives a 'thumbs up', and climbs down the other side of the doors. The chain fences shake with her movement, and the noise makes me nervous. All noise makes me nervous, so I pace on the spot with my eyes glued to the area behind Emily as she struggles with the gates. She grunts a few times as she pulls the steel pipe out from the handles, breaking it free with a loud screech. She swings the door open, and I cross through the doors quickly. The pipe she dislodged from the door looks rather useful. Its as if someone has attached a pair of shears to the tip of the pipe, seemingly making it a more deadly weapon; so I decide to attach it to my backpack. A silent weapon is the best kind of weapon in this world.

"Ta-da!" she says enthusiastically, as I start to close the door behind us.

"Welcome to... well, whatever this town is." She looks around and ruffles the hair behind her head, as I click the door shut with a hard push.

"Good job." I smile at her, and a few different emotions cross over her face at once. First there's surprise, then happiness, then she blushes. I don't hang around long enough to see what that blush turns into, as I start to explore the town. I hate to say I'm a little shocked at how secure it is. The entire area is fenced off, and it looks like he manages his way around by rooftop; as there are many ladders and plywood boards between the empty spaces above. I see Emily veer off to my left, and I decide to indulge her for a few minutes. We're already here, and if I know my friend; the stores in this place have been cleared thoroughly. Emily decides to enter a small shop between an old music store and a pub, cleverly called _Keith's_. The place looks like it has been ransacked, many papers are strewn across the floor; and there is a thick layer of dirt on everything to the touch. Emily doesn't seem to care though, because she walks straight up to an old gaming box towards the back of the room. She studies it with a smile on her face, as she presses a few buttons and runs her hands along the faded picture of an animated cartoon woman; holding a bad-ass looking bow and arrow.

"Play this before?" I ask.

"Naw. A friend of mine used to love this game, though. She knew everything about it."

The game is an old 'Viral Outbreak' third person shooter, a bit ironic seeing as how we live in the modern day version. I remember playing one of the games when I was younger, and remember how violent and gory they were. So, I decide to capitalize on my knowledge for a bit of humor.

"Bit graphic for my liking." I say with a smirk.

She laughs at this, because let's face it. Virtual killing is far less graphic than the real thing. She shifts her weight from one leg to the other, and it looks as if she is trying to make a decision. She must conclude herself rather quickly, as she tilts her head back slowly.

"There was this character," She starts "Named Ada... something. She was so mysterious and, capable. She killed so effortlessly, and always seemed to have the upper hand. She rocked this killer red dress, and had a thigh holster for her gun. Very sexy. And her witty remarks made me laugh." She says, chuckling a little as she describes the character.

"Kinda reminds me of you." She finishes, and I'm not sure if I should feel complimented or offended. So I decide to ask.

"Was that a compliment?"

"Well," She says, scratching at the back of her neck "She was my favourite character to play. So yeah, a compliment."

She smiles, and takes one last look at the console as she runs her hand over the box.

"I wish I could play it."

I understand then, this game is like a memory of a life she once knew. One we all knew. Sure, I could reminisce about the 'good 'ol days', but it would mostly be bitter criticism. About how naive we were back then, how we wasted so much time and energy on things that didn't matter. I thought about all the things people used to care about, like new cars and perfectly cut lawns, and I turned my nose up at it. But Emily, she misses the simplicity of it all, she misses being naive and she misses all those virtually impossible things she could lose herself in. Because things like that belong in _this_ world. Escapes, tools for numbing yourself. It's quite ironic that, back in a world where we had so much; we tried to escape from it. We acted like clean-cut barbarians, raping and stealing in secret. I suppose that was better than conforming to it as a way of life for Emily. How we took showering for granted, how we would scoff at the price of gasoline as it rose to unaffordable highs. How that sticky, brown fluid was worth more than water; or food. Now a days people shiv each other for a piece of bread in broad daylight, and while it used to happen before; it must still register a shock for her to see it happen so blatantly. Amazing, how the times have changed so much, yet so little at the same time.

;

;

Emily and I leave the store, as the sun is on the verge of disappearing from the sky. We need to find him, so she and I begin to walk down a shaded alleyway; matching each other in speed and stride. As quickly as we reached a resolve, it is all taken away from us as I hear rapid movement and clicking noises.

"Fuck!" I shout, as we see a clicker come down the alley towards us. I instinctively pull Emily behind me and grab the metal pipe from my bag; readying myself for a solid swing. Then I notice something. A fine piece of piano wire stretched out across the alleyway; attached to both walls. I have a feeling I know what this is, and within a split second I drop the pipe and wrap my arms around Emily, pulling her to the ground with me and shielding her from what is about to come. A sharp piercing rattles through the air, followed by short breaks of pressure waves. I hear the body of the clicker burst into a million wet pieces as it splashes across the walls of the alley.

"What the fuck was that?!" Emily screeches, grabbing the collar of my shirt tightly and pressing herself closer into me. Clearly, the small girl is frightened. I, on the other hand, am quite impressed. That little contraption of his definitely works.

"That," I start, grabbing her hands and pulling them away from my shirt gently "Would be one of his traps."

I haven't let go of her hands - shameful because I really don't want to, and I'll never admit it - as she moves away from me and gasps for air.

"Your friend a bit... fucking paranoid, maybe?" She spits, pulling her hands forcefully from my grasp.

"Putting it mildly." I supply, smiling to her so she knows her rash actions had little effect on me.

His nail bombs have come a long way, that clickers guts are splayed across the entire alleyway. I'm just glad we weren't closer to it. A scratch from a dirty edge would be the **last** thing we needed right now. I stand up, offering my hand to Emily which she refuses - not that I'm surprised - as we make our way cautiously down the alley. We reach the end of the alley - Emily jumping and stepping animatedly to avoid getting any clicker on her shoes - as I see a ladder leaning against a transport trailer. There is an old cloth chair perched above it, making me smile a little as I imagine him stationed there during the day; pegging off the infected with effortless dalliance. I climb up first rather quickly to make sure there is no imminent danger, before I signal for her to follow suit. As she reaches the top, she takes a notice straight away to one of the weapons he left at this post.

"Woah, a bow! And look, arrows!" She says excitedly, picking up the bow and pulling back on the strings a few times. "It's in good condition."

"How would you know?" I ask sarcastically, as I take the bow from her.

"Hey!" She sends me an angered look, as I study the large weapon in my hands. I've used one before - one of the many weapons Cook trained me on - but I wonder how skilled I could be at it. I'm a good shot, for a gun. I decide right then and there, that I will use this thing more often for extra practice. I open my mouth to say something to her, but I hear movement over the next rooftop. I signal to her to be quiet, as I ready the bow and place an arrow into it. Sure enough, there is a runner on the rooftop. _Time to test this thing out, I guess._ I pull back sharply on the arrow, and aim it at the runner carefully... then I let it go. The arrow shoots from me, and sticks right into the side of his head; causing a funny looking flip of the runners' limp body. I underestimated myself, I underestimated Cook's teaching capabilities. Clearly.

"Right. Keep the bow." Emily breathes, seemingly impressed by my marksmanship. I smile triumphantly at her, before coming to my next decision. When we meet up with him, things need to be handled with caution. I'm positive he won't be the boy I once knew, but I can imagine the older, more intense version will be tricky to deal with; at best.

"Listen, this guy he... he isn't the most... _stable_ person." I say, as we walk along the rooftops. "So when we get there, just let me do the talking. Okay? Don't say a word."

"Where exactly are we going?" She asks, as she steps over an air-intake vent.

"That doesn't matter." I respond quickly, the want to explain why he would be holed up in a bright yellow house, and how exactly I know that; is non-existant. "He doesn't take too kindly to strangers-"

"Okay." She cuts in, understanding evident in her voice. So why I feel the need to elaborate? I'm not quite sure.

"He's a good guy, he's just... he needs time to warm up is all."

;

;

I climb down a ladder into an empty alleyway - Emily following suit behind me - as we reach the only path left for us; through a slightly open door to a warehouse. I virtually scold myself now, and later as I stupidly open the door quickly, and I instantly feel something tighten around my ankle.

_Fuck_.

I hear the loud _rip_ of a chord being pulled, and in an instant I am being tossed on my back and lifted into the air by my foot. My head smacks the pavement with a loud _smack_ as I dangle in mid-air; the momentum causing me to rock back and forth.

"Naomi!" Emily shouts, fear evident in her voice. I am hanging upside down, and my vision is blurry due to the heavy thump on the back of my head I endured when the rope lurched. I can see the faint outline of a big white box in front of me, and it looks like it may be attached to me somehow; like the counter weight holding me up. Emily comes rushing over to me, grabbing my shoulders tightly to stop me from swinging.

"I got you." She says, as the movement dies down; eventually stopping.

"God dammit!" I shout in frustration, after my brain stops spinning. She looks at the rope holding me up, and follows it to the fridge. It seems she comes to the same conclusion as I did quickly, as she lets go of me and runs over to it.

"If I cut this rope!" She shouts, starting to climb on top of it. "You should come down!"

She starts to cut at the rope as I dangle in the air like a piece of prized meat, and my body seizes up immediately as I hear the faint sound of something coming. More than one something. _Runners_. Emily can hear them too, as all the color drains from her face and she quickens her movements across the rope. I see a runner coming at me from the corner of my eye, and I hear Emily shout:

"Fuck! Naomi!" I drop to the ground with a heavy _thud, _just as the runner jumps me. I am disoriented, and barely manage to keep the creature off of me as he thrashes about in my grasp. His teeth are dripping with stomach turning bile as he gets closer and closer to me. The inches getting shorter by the second.

Then, something happens.

I see the glisten of a metal machete slice through the runners' neck, and his head comes clean off with a loud _pop!_ A man is standing over me, with a large, black gas mask on his face. He grabs me and stands me up, and shouts - rather muffled - for us to run and follow him; as more runners decide to join the party. I run as fast as I can, behind Emily, as we weave our way through the streets. He slams a few gates shut behind us as we reach certain points, and before I know it; we are running up the steps to a bright yellow house. _My old house._ The man slams the door shut behind us, and pushes a heavy metal washing machine in front of the door as a precaution. Emily is panting, glancing over at me with concern etched into her features. I can't find the breath at the moment to say anything, and I see Emily start making her way over to the man in an attempt at gratitude. _Bad idea._

"Uh... Thanks, for the heroics and all." She says to him, forcing a small smile in his direction. He takes his mask off, revealing a heavily bearded version of the boy I once knew, with his curly brown locks forming into the thick brown beard on his face. They stare each other down for a moment, and Emily looks uncomfortable. She extends her hand out to him, and says a timid:

"Uh, I'm Emily..."

He takes her hand, and before we know it, the soft clicks of the metal handcuff is attached to her wrist, as he pulls back on her arm towards the pipe on the wall behind them; attaching the other cuff to the pipe.

"HEY! What the- Naomi!" She yells, as he pushes her back.

"JJ!" I shout.

"Naomi what the fuck!" Emily is panicked now, and my temper is boiling. Clearly he is in serious need of mango juice.

"Fuck sakes JJ, STOP!" I shout.

He turns around quickly, pulling out a gun from his side pocket, and aims it at me forcefully.

"Turn around and get on your knees!" He shouts at me. Emily hasn't stopped squirming.

"JJ, mate. Listen-"

"I SAID, ON YOUR KNEES!" He bellows, and I raise my hands above my head in surrender. I start to turn around, and he kicks at the back of my knees, causing me to tumble forward.

"Don't test me! Please!" He shouts, pressing the cold metal barrel to the back of my skull.

"JJ, take it easy. It's alright." I start, trying to calm the boy down. He pats me down forcefully with his free hand, looking for something. I can hear Emily tugging loudly at something loud and made of metal, but my back is to her.

"Any bites?!" He asks, pushing me around forcefully.

"No!" I respond impatiently.

"If I see so much as a twitch," He starts angrily.

"I'm clean, god dammit!" My patience has all but run out, and this situation has spiraled out of my control. I need to regain this, and fast.

Just as I am figuring out a way to fix all of this, Emily yanks the pipe loose from the wall, and as JJ turns around to face Emily; she smacks him across the face with it.

"OW!" he yelps, falling back from her swing. She goes to swing again, but I jump up and grab the pipe in her hands.

"Emily, stop!" I say, grabbing her and pulling her away from a wounded JJ.

"_Bobbins_, that hurt!" he screams out. I take the pipe from Emily, and give her a thankful smile as I turn my attention to JJ, pointing the pipe at him.

"Are you fucking done?"

"Am _I_ done..?" He gasps, holding his hand up to the side of his head. His face starts to get red, and I know from experience; he is about to blow.

"YOU come into MY house, set off all of my traps, SHE almost breaks my bloody arm-"

"_MY_ house." I cut in, claiming the yellow house I once lived in with my mother. He decides to ignore my statement as he nods in Emily's direction angrily.

"Who the heck is this... girl, and what are _you_ doing here?"

Emily walks over angrily, balling her fists as her face goes red.

"I?" She starts, "Am none of your fucking business, and we're here because you owe Naomi some favors; and you can _start_ by taking these off!" She shoves her wrist in his face animatedly, where the cuffs are still linked to her arm.

He backs away, his lack of patience clearly getting the best of him. "Oh, _I _owe _Naomi_ some favors?" He scoffs, walking over to the filthy couch in the corner and sitting down less than gracefully. "Is this some kind of a joke? Because I can tell you, I was once the master of jokes, and actually magic... I was miraculous at magic. But this-" I rest my hand on Emily's shoulder, and decide to cut in.

"Look, Jay I'll cut to the chase. I need a car."

"OH!" He laughs, grabbing at his machete and a piece of sharpening block as he runs it along the edge of his blade. "It _is _a joke. Naomi needs a car. Well let me tell you something. If I had a car that works - which I don't - what makes you think I will just _give_ it to you?"

I don't really know what to say, mostly because the boy I haven't seen since grade school is acting abnormally erratic. I guess we all changed along the way. My silence urges him on however, as he starts to get locked-on.

"Sure, Naomi! Take my virtual car! Take my clothes, take my food while you're at it!"

Emily sniggers, and shoots at him sarcastically "You mean the food you have stuck in those braces? No thanks. What are you, like forty years old? Pretty sure you don't need those things anymore."

He stands up furiously, and points his machete at her. "Now you listen to me, you little... red headed-" but Emily is having none of it.

"No, FUCK YOU! You handcuffed me and-" I stand up, and push her back more forcefully than I ever wanted to.

"I need you, to SHUT. UP." I say forcefully, muting her silent. She stares at me, and I try with all my might to give her my best _'trust me'_ stare. This can get really out of hand, really fast. Worse than it already has. And I need to de-escalate things quickly.

"Whatever favours you think I owe you, Naomi? They aren't worth **that **much." He says, shaking his head.

"Actually, JJ; they are. You know me, okay? You know I would never cash in on debts this old, this out dated; if it wasn't for a good reason. This is bigger than us, Jay. All I'm asking for is a car."

He looks at me for a moment, just a moment, before going back to frantically sharpening his machete. He shakes his head quickly, and says: "Well it doesn't matter, because I don't have a car that works."

"But there _is_ one in this town-"

"Parts. There are PARTS, in this town! Good god, _how_ do you _not_ understand that!" He yells exasperated.

"Meaning that you _could _fix one up, Jay." I say, toning my voice down in the hopes that he will calm. He is a very high-strung guy, and Emily hasn't been helping him 'cool his jets'. I honestly didn't think she would clash with him _this_ bad.

He looks at me, and runs his hand along his scruffy beard. It clearly took a long time for him to grow it, as it's all patchy around his face. His blue eyes seem to have lost their innocent sparkle, as they stare back at me; emotionless._ I wonder for a moment, if they mirror my own. _His hair is long enough that it sweeps to the side of his face, and the clothes he is wearing are much different than I remember. Less, vibrant. Not so full of life. Though, I could hardly expect him to stay the same, now could I? Now, he has a grey bandana around his neck, and a thick work jacket on. He has gloves on with the fingers cut off, and thick cargo pants with pockets seemingly filled to the rim. Heavy boots that are clearly too big for him are donned on his feet, and his backpack has several full compartments. He clearly never leaves himself unprepared.

Suddenly, his low voice breaks me out of my thoughts.

"_Fine_. But we do this, **my** way."

**So, who was expecting JJ in this story? Show of hands? Okay, you clever lot. Who was expecting him to turn out like _this_? *raises eyebrow expectantly* lol thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed posting it! Pleeeeease review? The power of your reviews are like, superhuman :) **

**xoV**


	9. Chapter 9

**Hey! Welcome to Chapter 9, and you guys give me the best reviews EVER. Seriously, waaay too kind, you are. So from the bottom of my little black, weeping heart, I thank you. Every word really does mean a lot to me. **

**So, there is going to be some insight into why JJ is so... unhinged as of late. Just a heads up, a little sadness is ahead. But then again, did I ever give you the inkling that it was going to be sunshine and daisy's in this fic?**

**Anyways, that being said, I am forced (that's right, FORCED) to tell you guys who was responsible for the posting of this chapter. You see, I picked up GTA V today, and instead of playing it; I finished off this chapter. How the fuck did I do that? Well, the answer is simple. Nicole. You guys, Nicole pestered the shit out of me to get this up, and I'm nothing if not obedient. Okay, so maybe I wanted to get this done too, coz you guys rock. But, she needs an ego boost so, let's all PRETEND she is solely responsible for this, shall we? **

**1, 2, 3... thaaaaanks Nicole.**

"There's a school on the other side of town. Some gear there that I'm going to need." He says, pulling out a map. He unfolds it out on the table, and points to a logo on the map that says _'Roundview College'. _

"You help me get it, and _maybe_ I can put something together that runs."

I study the map carefully, taking down mental notes of roadways, shapes and landmarks. If we get lost or cornered anywhere, we need to have an escape route. I remember Roundview, my mom told me there was this guy that worked there as a principal or something; he had a huge crush on her friend Harriet, I always thought he was a complete nutter. Kieran tried to work there once, but he was such a grumpy bugger that they fired him. I remember laughing at him the day he came by and told my mom that. I mean, how daft can you be? To get fired from a College run by some dopey man like that... I'm brought out of my memories as JJ starts to rummage through one of his pockets thoroughly, before pulling something out of his pocket and slamming it down on the table.

"But after this, I owe you **nothing.**" He lifts his hand to reveal a small key, and it doesn't take me more than a second to realize it is the key to Emily's cuffs.

"That's fine," I start, as I take the key and walk over to Emily.

She is watching me with an intensity that makes me uncomfortable, as I keep my eyes on the floor. She lifts her arm - and I can still feel her gaze - as I place the key in the cuff. I'm trying to kick start my brain, because it seems to be melting into a puddle of something that can't form a coherent thought, as I take the handcuff off her wrist and throw it to the floor.

"We'll probably be dead in a few days, anyway."

"Whatever." He responds, dismissively. "The whole town is booby trapped, best if you stay right on my rear."He folds up the map and places it in his pocket, before walking past us towards the kitchen.

Emily laughs mockingly, as she says "If we lose him, at least we'll be able to _sniff_ him out." and waves her hand over her nose in disgust. Mocking him isn't the smartest thing to do right now, and to be honest; I don't feel like playing mediator between these two. So I grab her hand and turn her towards me, as I tell her:

"Knock it off."

We follow JJ past the kitchen to the basement door. He is already down there, so I take the opportunity to look around. It seems Jay didn't have any issues making himself at home. All the pictures have been ripped off the walls, and everything is a mess. Dirt everywhere - even a bit of blood - some old news paper; he has quite a few areas set up for bomb making or gun cleaning. His OCD seems to have gotten worse over the years, because there is hoards of things stacked high to the ceiling. Boxes of food, clothing, you name it; he's got it. Emily doesn't understand why I am studying the house so closely, as she hesitates in the basement doorway. I take one last look around - for anything familiar to me - before I follow her down the stairs. JJ is busying himself on one of the long tables he has out, and he shouts to me to close the door before I make my way downstairs completely. I shut the door tightly behind me and join Emily; who seems rather amused by JJ. He is mumbling to himself angrily, saying things like '_why did you get yourself into this, Gay Jay. You should have just left them out there. What is wrong with you.' _

"Geeze, you weren't kidding about him." She says.

"Yeah, he's one of a kind." I smile at her, and she quirks a defiant eyebrow up at me. It makes me laugh a little, that face she makes. I don't know why, it just... does.

"_You_, red headed girl," He points to Emily. "Don't touch **anything.**"

She doesn't respond to him, she just shakes her head and leans back against the wall; crossing her arms over her chest. JJ brings out a box of weapons - taking out two shotguns and a bucket of rounds - and goes to hand a small revolver to Emily. She pushes herself off the wall and goes to take it from him, but I cut in.

"Uh, no." I stand in between her and JJ, holding my arm up to her.

"What? Why? I can take care of myself." She says, finishing off her sentence in a rushed whisper.

"No." I say flatly. "Just... stay here. Don't-"

"Touch anything." She finishes, walking towards the other end of the basement. "Right. I'll just wait around here for you two _freaks _to get me killed."

I do my best to ignore her comment, as I walk over to a clearly amused JJ. He seems to find our banter funny, even though I don't. I sit on the edge of the table he is standing at, and as he starts loading rounds into one of the shotguns; he says to me:

"You've got to take that girl back to where you found her. She's trouble for you, I can tell."

He pats the tip of the gun to his temple, as if using it as an extension of his fingertip. He is trying to tell me something, something that I am clearly aware of; but it's not that simple. He doesn't know what she is, what she means; he doesn't know my promise to Cook.

"It's not that simple-"

"Then send her away." He cuts in. "She can find her own way to wherever it is she needs to go."

"Jay, I can't. You don't know anything, okay?" I plead with him to let this go, because I struggle enough with these thoughts every passing moment. He is right, this girl **is **trouble for me. My best friend is dead, my life is at risk every day; we're travelling across the country for something that I don't feel is worth my own life. But for some reason I don't just leave her, I don't put a bullet in her head and go home. I don't know why, and to be honest; I'm not ready to know. Let alone admit that to JJ.

"Let me tell you a story then, Naomi." He has finished loading one of the guns, and is starting on the next; taking out shells and popping them into the center.

"Once upon a time, I had someone that I cared about." I look at him - surprised - and he stops his movements for a second to meet my gaze. For a split second, I see the old JJ in his eyes. But within the matter of one incredibly fleeting moment, that boy vanishes, as he starts loading up the gun again.

"It was a girl and... somebody I had to look after." His voice raises angrily, as he cocks the shotgun.

"I learned quickly that in this world, the only thing people like that are good for; is getting you killed."

I know the point he is trying to make, I know that he is saying for me to ditch Emily. He is telling me that she is a liability, and there is no room left in this world to care for someone other than yourself. I'm shocked that he is talking to me this way, hell. I'm shocked he actually found _someone _to care about. But, if this life has taught me one thing; it's that our lives are unpredictable.

"Do you know what I did, Naomi?" He asks, as he cocks the gun again and starts loading bullets into a 9mm baretta. "I wizened up. And I realized it's got to be just... me."

"Look, Jay. It... It isn't like _that._" I sigh, my argument is weak and unkempt.

"No, Naomi. It's **exactly **like that." I open my mouth to protest again, but I can't find any words. So instead, I hang my head and play with the bottom hem of my denim shirt. I mean, really. Why am I being so stupid? I haven't seen JJ in what. Fifteen years? And he has to tell me that I'm being daft? What can I say to a guy I never thought would survive, who is now telling me that I'm making a huge mistake? The fact that we've made it this far is a surprise in itself, and I don't know how much longer we're going to last. This car may get us a little farther, but it will also get us into deeper trouble. That much, I know.

"Hey!" JJ shouts, startling me out of my internal monologue. "What did I say to you when you walked down the steps?" He is yelling at Emily - talking to her like a young child - something extremely odd and out of character; even for him. I turn my head and see she is flipping through some piles of old magazines, bewildered at his sudden outburst.

"What did I say?" He repeats.

Emily gets agitated then, and steps back from the table angrily. "I'm just... fixing your _stupid _pile, you crazy fucker!"

"Don't. Touch!" He bellows, causing worse friction between the two. Emily stares him down, and he doesn't budge. Then, she gets a novel idea. She raises her right hand, and holds up her middle finger to the man. JJ scoffs in disbelief, as he slams one of the guns down on the table.

"This, is going to blow up in your face; Naomi."

I shove off of the table then, as I've had more than enough of his badgering.

"JJ, mate. Enough. Can we just, get on with it?" He shakes his head, and picks up one of the shotguns from the table; throwing it at me. I catch it with ease, and the boy grabs the other one for himself.

"Sure. But one more thing." He takes a step closer to me - albeit, a proximity I am less than comfortable with - and stares me straight in the eye.

"You _do_ know what Naomi is spelled backwards, don't you?"

I am having none of this from JJ, his need to demean me because he is angry with me. Angry because I didn't listen to him; angry because I brought him into a fight that was never his own. I'm not the type to back down, and he may be a full grown man now; but that doesn't mean I will allow him to bully me like this. Try to frighten me. I've killed men much bigger, and much stronger than him. He should know that. I step closer to him, and press the tip of my shotgun into his stomach.

"Don't you dare utter another word, JJ. Men with furry teeth shouldn't talk unless they want them knocked the **fuck** out."

He stares at me for a moment - trying to hold his ground - before taking a step back. If there is one thing I can give him credit for, it's picking his battles; picking his enemies. He knows he doesn't want me as an enemy, and as far as we've grown apart; he knows who we once were to each other.

;

;

"If you have anything to confess, now would be the time." He says, as we enter the chapel.

It smells like fermenting sewage on the inside, the source of the smell is happily unknown to me. The thing is massive - much bigger than I remember - as we make our way through the large structure. I'm surprised that the stained glass has held up this long, but Emily seems to be in total awe. I would imagine that she wouldn't remember a place like this, with the incessant chiming of it's giant bell echoing through the streets so long ago. I follow JJ up the wooden steps as Emily follows a little far behind, her eyes surveying around the interior of the structure. As I near the last step, the source of the smell becomes clear; as I lift the collar of my shirt over my nose and stop dead in my tracks.

"Fuck me." I breath.

I hear Emily coming up behind me, her hand is over her nose as well. In the middle of the large room - where the priest would usually speak his sermon - is a pile of rotting corpses. Rows upon rows of smelly, decomposing bodies of the infected are splayed out in front of me, and I instinctively reach my hand back to grab Emily. I'm not sure exactly why, but I don't want her to see this. She has her own mind however, as she brushes past me.

"I've seen worse." is all she says, as she follows JJ up the steps to a giant window.

I guess I can't really blame her, can I? I'm a confused and frustrated twat half of the time, and it must get annoying having to deal with extreme temperature changes. So I shrug it off and follow behind - doing my best to block out the smell from my nostrils - as he opens the giant window and climbs out. Emily climbs out after, and I follow. JJ points to the large 'Roundview' sign, and says:

"We're close. Just through this yard."

"JJ," I start, positioning myself next to the man. "Why is there a mass grave in that chapel?"

"It was her idea." Is all he supplies, as he jumps down to the floor with a solid _thump. _

The school is a few streets away, as I follow JJ with Emily trailing behind me. It is eerily silent, and I don't like it one bit. The thing about silence? It's always waiting to be filled with something terrifying. We make our way down the street, but stop abruptly as there is an infected person - standing in the middle of the street, deathly still - staring at the school. His back is to us, so we duck down behind an old, abandoned car and Emily crouches down behind me; as JJ starts to point something out.

"This guy," He starts, pointing at the creature "Is a... look. Let's just say he's sensitive, yeah? I've tried to kill him a few times but he just ends up wailing and charging at me."

"Have you tried a bow?" I ask, remembering the weapon me and Emily picked up earlier.

"_Yes,_ but he's covered in something. Pretty sure he was military once upon a time."

JJ is right, the guy is wearing fatigues and a helmet, but also body armour as well. If we want to get past this guy, we're going to have to get close enough to shiv him; which can be difficult. Humans are predictable, but these things are not. I nod to JJ and turn around to Emily.

"When I start to move, you follow JJ, alright? Don't argue with me." She stares at me wide-eyed, and just nods her head silently as she walks around me to crouch behind JJ. I step out from behind the car and slowly pull out my knife, taking one step at a time. I steady the knife in my hands, as I am now but a few footsteps from the creature. I can hear it's erratic breathing, as it twitches aggressively. I've only got one shot at this, better make it count. I reach my hand around him slowly, and jam my blade into the side of his neck. He starts to buck, as blood curdling screams erupt from his throat. I hear JJ and Emily start to run, as they rush past me.

"RUN!" JJ shouts, as I finally win my struggle with the creature and pull my blade out. There is a ruckus behind me, and I turn to see an army of infected are beginning to charge at me; full speed.

Fuck.

I start to run so fast that I just about trip forwards, as I clunk my way down the street in the direction of a clearly flustered and upset JJ; with Emily following right next to him. I can feel the hairs on the back of my neck raise as the voices get closer, as the screams bounce off the walls of my skull. I'm getting closer to the school now, as Emily and JJ jump through an open window of the schools' cafeteria. In a heartbeat I jump up onto the metal air conditioning box just below the window, but that causes enough time for an infected to gain a second on me. I am jumped from behind - my arms reaching out into the window - as my face slams against the metal box. I hear the creature panting above me, and then I feel strong hands wrap around my wrists. I am pulled forcefully out from under the creature as I fall to the floor inside the window, and I hear a loud gunshot behind me before the window slams shut.

"That's not gonna hold!" Emily shouts, as the infected slam aggressively against the window.

"Jay," I pant, slowly raising myself up "Make it fast!"

Emily and I stare at the window in fear, before we hear two heavy doors start to slam behind us.

"Fuck! Emily, grab this!" There is a metal shelf next to the doorway, and I push it with all my might to get it in front of the rattling doors . Emily helps by pulling, and in a few seconds the doors are barricaded off. It isn't over though, as the infected continue to slam against the door; causing the shelf to rock back and fourth. I press my back against the shelf, pushing against it to keep the doors closed as their screams pour out into our room. JJ is trying to pry the hood of an old pick up truck open, and I shout to him "Please tell me you're done!" As it gets harder to keep the doors closed. He finally gets the hood open with one last yank, and stares at the engine block blankly.

"JJ!"

"It's empty."

"What?" I push myself off the shelf and over to the truck, next to JJ. "It's bloody empty!" He bellows, as he starts to panic. Emily is still pushing against the doors, and yells at us helplessly.

"Guys!"

"Jay, where to?" I look around the room quickly, and then back to him. "Jay!"

"Uh..."

"JJ WHERE!"

"Anywhere but here!" He shouts, and takes off down an open door and into a hallway. I grab Emily, take her hand in mine; and we sprint down the hallway after JJ. I can hear the doors slamming open behind us, as we weave our way through the corridors of the vacant College. JJ stops at the doors to the gymnasium, and starts to push against it forcefully.

"Help me!" He shouts, and I run to his side as we both begin to push our way through the door. It opens just a crack, enough for us to fit in as I usher Emily in first, followed by JJ. Finally I squeeze through the door, and I help JJ push the giant gym equipment back against the door.

"They'll be on us soon, we have to find a way out." JJ scrambles, as he jogs out into the middle of the gym floor. The big, folding metal benches are stacked against the wall, and there are a row of long windows stretched across the top of the stacks. JJ stops in his tracks, as a low, rumbling growl emanates from one of the doors across the way. I glance quickly over at JJ, who is staring at the direction of the sound as he starts to move again, towards the benches. Just then, another growl erupts, this time much closer than the last.

"What the fuck-" Emily starts, before the doors burst open with such force, they bounce off their hinges. A giant creature emerges from the darkness, waddling out with giant steps and a wavering balance.

"Bloater!" I shout to JJ, as he is already folding out the benches so we can make our escape. I push Emily towards JJ and tell her "You, get out! Don't wait for me!" As I reach for the shotgun latched to my pack. I pull it out, and cock the gun as the creature bellows out into the room. It is massive, the only remnants of the human it used to be is the fact it has two arms and two legs. It's giant head is completely covered in fungus, jetting out in all directions. Its eyes are covered over in plates, as its jagged teeth clench and loud clicking noises emanate from its throat. The creature is covered in giant fungal plates like armour, as it waddles out of the shadows and into the gymnasium towards us. I have to get its attention away from Emily and JJ, so I walk towards it and start shooting rounds at the beast. He screams out in agony, as a few of my shots hit his exposed skin. I see him start a fighting stance, as he bends his knees, and the fungus start to form long tubes from his shoulders. I make a mad dash towards the other end of the gym, as the fungus shoot giant spore bombs at me. The air starts to become heavy as they explode out into the floor as I reach the wall. I shoot a few more rounds at the creature, and I see JJ is almost done with the stairs. Emily is watching the battle before her, and I really wish she wasn't. I may be fast, but I don't have a chance against these creatures. I use every fibre of my being to try to at least cripple the monster.

I cock the gun, and realize there is only one shot left. I decide to make it count, as I steady myself before launching at the creature. There is a few boxes stacked high beside him, so I run towards them and jump up, using them as leverage. I am above the bloater now, and shoot my gun into the center of his skull. The close range allowed for penetration as his head explodes in an instant. His giant body slams to the floor as I stand there - shocked - with my empty shotgun still aimed.

"Naomi!" Emily shouts, and I look back to see they are waiting at the top of the metal benches, JJ has one of the large windows open. I jump off my perch and drop my empty shotgun to the ground, as I run quickly up the steps. JJ and Emily climb out, and I follow them swiftly. JJ slams the window shut behind me, and we drop to the ground in less than graceful _thuds._ There is another alleyway, and we start to sprint down it towards a ladder leaning against the wooden fence of a house. JJ climbs up first, and Emily starts up it as one runner starts to gain on us. I have to wait for Emily to get over before I can start to climb, so I pull out that pipe with the shears attached to the ends as I swing it at the face of the runner. It does its job splendidly, as his limp body falls to the floor, and I put my boot on his body as I yank the pipe out of his skull and JJ calls out to me. I climb up the ladder, and jump down into the yard, as JJ takes a wood sweeper from the yard and knocks the ladder down.

"Inside the house, now!" JJ shouts, as the screams of the infected start to get louder and louder. We enter the house through the glass doors before Emily slides them shut behind us.

"So _that _worked out well." Emily breathes, panting as she braces her hands on her knees. I am out of breath, and JJ is pacing around. He and I need to have a little chat, as the air around us becomes thick with rage. Emily can sense it, as JJ and I lock eyes with each other, and she decides this isn't the best time to try and make a joke.

"Okay, uh... I'll go check out_ this_ side of the house." She points over her shoulder, as she makes a beeline for the next room.

"Jay?" I raise my arms up in frustration, as he stares out the doors before turning around slightly to reply.

"Someone had the same idea, they stole my stuff." He replies quickly.

"Well then what the hell is plan B, huh?" I'm angry, out of breath, and terrified. We almost died, all for something that wasn't even there.

"_You _need to be thankful you're still breathing, Naomi; that was a bloody _Bloater_ back there!"

He paces around again, getting locked-on. "That was plan a, b, c... all the way to z! And further more, you can take your little red headed sex toy with you and just... bugger off right out of here! Why you decided to come back here and risk _my_ life is beyond me!"

I feel my anger boil over, and the fact that he brought Emily into this sends me right over the edge.

"You fucking _wank job_! You have NO idea who, or **what** she is! You're so bloody cunning? Well I'll tell you what. You live in this shit hole fucking town, in MY old house, and you live your pathetic little life. Because no one will ever come here looking for you when all of this is over! You have nothing, NO ONE!"

My screams echo out into the vacant house, as JJ has silenced up completely. I thought for a moment that what I said struck a chord with him, before I realized he wasn't even looking at me. His eyes were fixed on something behind me, above my right shoulder, as he stood there; silent as stone. The look on his face was unrecognizable, and I've only ever seen it one other time; when Cook forced me to leave him. I turn around slowly, and look up to see the limp, hanging body of a woman strung up from the ceiling. The woman has her head covered with a pillowcase, and there is a noose tight around her neck. She is wearing an oversized, blue t-shirt with a yellow print of sunglasses and a mustache on the front of the shirt. Blue jeans cover her legs, and her feet are only wearing dirty, white socks. She has a photo and a piece of paper clipped to her shirt, and the photo is of her and JJ smiling brightly into the camera, with a young boy between them. She has dirty blonde hair pulled back into a tight pony tail, and JJ is smiling brightly with his arm around the young boy. He looks to be about five or six years old, and only as I look down do I realize there is a small body covered in a sheet laying peacefully on the sofa; just below the hanging woman to the right. I look over at JJ, who is still staring at the woman, as tears start to well up in his eyes. I realize then, why the boy I once knew turned out this way. Why he chastised Emily like a child, why he was so different. He had a family, a son. They died, leaving him alone and he couldn't take it. The shell of a man he has become... he must have died with them. He sniffs quietly, and pulls out his machete from his pack, before walking slowly over to the woman; cutting the rope so her lifeless body thumps to the floor. He stares down at her, sniffling again, as he points his machete at her.

"She's got bites here, and uh... here. One there, too." He points to each bite, on her arms and leg, as he wipes at a tear that has fallen down his cheek.

"Who was she-"

"Her name was Lara." He says, taking a hesitant step back from her body. "That was my shirt."

I don't know what to say at this point, so I fall silent as the boy unravels in front of me.

"Albert, he... he went missing. I tried to find him, but I couldn't. I searched everywhere, I almost died looking for him." He wipes his tears again and sniffs loudly.

"She never forgave me for letting him wander off, and she left to go find him. That was five months ago. I just... I thought she took off on me, you know? Found him huddled up somewhere and decided she didn't want to be a family anymore."

"But the photo..." I start, trying to comfort the boy. "It means she still wanted..."

"Yeah." He replies, putting his machete back into his pack.

"Well, screw her. We could have looked for him together. Died together. Instead, she left me here alone, to rot. Become some kind of creature like the rest of them. Well, she succeeded alright. A monster, I have become."

He wipes at his face one more time, before walking off down the hallway. I stand there, trying to take it all in, before my curiosity takes the best of me and I turn the small womans' body over. I detach the picture and paper from her chest, and start to read the letter.

_My darling Jeremiah,_

_I'm so sorry you had to find us like this. I guess I should have listened to you when you said to never go off without you; these creatures are relentless. I stole the battery from that truck in the school, the one you wanted to get before? I needed to find our son, and you taught me enough to be able to fix something up. I thought a car would give me a fighting chance to find him, but I never got that far. There is a Jeep in the garage, it should run if you need it for anything... I found Albert upstairs, hiding away in a closet. He was bitten, and unfortunately; so was I. That school was over run with those things. I had one bullet left in the gun I took, so I decided to... he made me **promise** not to let him become one of those things._

_I killed our baby, Jay. I couldn't forgive myself. I couldn't live another day without my boy, you understand. I never meant to leave you, and I'm so sorry for the things I said to you before I left. I need you to know, that Albert and I loved you very much. You loved us and kept us safe, and in a world like this; you made our days very happy._

_Do not lose the amazing man you are, Jeremiah. That incredibly sweet, compassionate, and generous man that I fell madly in love with; the one who fathered our wonderful son. I know there is no place for those virtues in this world, but you are too good a man to whither away to nothing. I needed to write this before meeting up with Albert, I know you don't believe in god sweetheart; but when it is your time, we will be here waiting for you._

_I love you._

I take the letter, and the photo, and search the house for JJ. Emily seems to have found the Jeep, as she is sitting in the drivers seat, clutching the wheel.

"I've always wanted to drive one of these." She says, looking around the vehicle in awe.

"Emily, I..." I start to speak, as I place my hands on the door of the Jeep; the windows are rolled down. Reading Lara's letter to JJ has changed something in me, and I have the urge to tell Emily that she is brave, and special. That she is the reason I still carry on with this, that **she** is my hope. But, I've always been shit at words, so the words out of my mouth are less-than special.

"You're doing a good job with all of this. I just... thought you should know that."

She stares at me for a moment, but it's strangely comfortable. It's as if her warmth surrounds me entirely, that her gaze is nothing more than purity. It's as if she has read my mind, she knows exactly what I meant by the words I managed to lump together, and It's all too overwhelming. She continues to lock her gaze with mine, as she responds quietly.

"I promise, I won't let you down."

Our moment is short lived however, as a bumbling JJ enters the garage.

"I see she took my battery too. Can't tell anyone _anything,_ these days."

Emily is confused by his anger, but I decide to talk to him anyways.

"Jay, look. She left you a note-"

"I don't want it." He cuts in.

"JJ, she fucking loved you, okay? Read the damn letter and stop being such a pussy. Emily and I will be out of your hair as soon as this Jeep starts up, so just take this," I shove the paper and photo into his hands "and help us fucking start this thing. Okay?"

He takes the paper and photo from me, and looks it over mournfully. He runs his finger over the faces of Lara and Albert, before shoving them in his pocket and looking up at me.

"Just give me a second," He walks over to the Jeep and pops open the hood. "On my mark, Emily, you turn the key."

She looks at me in shock, mouthing the words 'did he just call me Emily?' before he calls out for her to turn the key. She does it, and the engine sputters a little. This happens about two or three times, before the last key turn sets the engine into a roar. Emily smiles and looks over to me, excited, and I smile back. It seems our luck is changing a little.

"There, all set." He says, wiping some grease off his hands and on to the leg of his pants.

"Here." He throws a short rubber chord at me, and I catch it, and I study it closely.

"What is it?"

"You'd be amazed how many cars still have gas in them." _So he gave me a gas syphoner, very clever_.

"Thanks, Jay." I bow my head, trying to figure out my next words. I feel bad, so I decide to try and mend fences with the boy.

"Look Jay, about your family I... It's a tough deal." I kick at some dirt on the floor, unable to make eye contact with the man.

"And I'm uh..." I lift my head to meet the man's gaze, as he stares back into my eyes. He is sad, and hurting. I know. Losing your family is tough, and I'm shite at words.

"We square?" He says after a moment. It seems he isn't in the mood for pleasantries, or pity. Though, I didn't think I was pitying him; or maybe I was.

"Yeah." I look down at my boots again, wringing the tubing between my hands. "We're square."

"Then get the fuck out of my town." He says, nodding towards Emily in the Jeep. He turns around, opening the garage door, and signals for us to make our exit. Emily climbs over to the passenger seat as I open the door, and sit myself inside the car. I position my seat back, allowing my long legs to stretch out, as I put the car in gear and slowly accelerate out of the garage. I take one last look at the man in the rear view mirror, the man who is pulling out the note as I watch him. The man I once knew, the man I will probably never see again.

;

;

Its raining outside, and the gentle hum of the windshield wipers is a surprisingly calming sound to me. The streets are barren, with nature overtaking the cement as plants sprout and spread through cracks in the road, and vines grow over abandoned cars. I rest my right elbow on the door, and hold my head in my hand, as I clutch the wheel loosely with my left hand. We've been driving for hours, and the rain hasn't helped me to stay awake. Rain always had a relaxing effect on me, when I was younger I used to fall asleep to the gentle tapping of the raindrops on the steel roof of our car. Emily has been in the back seat for a while sleeping, so I start to rub at my eyes.

"Oh, man!" I jump out of my skin at the sudden outburst, and look into the rear view mirror.

"Hey! what happened to sleeping?"

She sits up, and lets out an eccentric sigh. "Okay, I know it doesn't look like it. But this here, Isn't a bad read." She lifts her arms up to reveal a comic book that she has been reading, with the words 'The Walking Dead' written across the top of the comic in big, black letters.

"A little ironic, don't you think?" I say sarcastically. Unfortunately, she is too lost in her own rant to hear my quip, as she continues on, opening up the pages to the very last page.

"Just one problem. Right there." She points to the bottom of the last page, just below the illustrated picture of an undead zombie, with the words 'To Be Continued...' are written in white ink.

"I fucking hate cliffhangers."

I don't remember coming across any comics on our journey as of yet, so I turn my head to her and arch a questioning eyebrow up at her.

"Where did you get that?" She looks at me, widening her eyes, before she darts them around the car.

"Uhh... Back at JJ's...I mean, all that stuff was just _lying_ there..."

I let out a sigh and shake my head, as I see her watching me from the corner of my eye. There's no point in saying anything to her, I mean, she IS right. At least she will get some sort of enjoyment out of them. Suppose that's something.

"What else did you get?"

She smiles, and intakes a short breath before reaching into her bag and pulling out a small, black tape deck.

"Here," She passes the tape to me "This make you feel all _nostalgic_?"

I read the writing on the side of the tape, and it reads:

_The Statler Brothers_

"Ha! Do you know, this is actually **before** my time?"

I laugh, as I put it into the radio. Country was never my thing, but I haven't heard music in ages. Besides, it could be worse. She could have unearthed something awful, like Love Fist. I push the tape in, and the twangy acoustic guitar floods into the Jeep.

_She came to me shortly after Christmas,_

_Said she hated spoiling New Year's Eve._

_But the truth doesn't wait to come in season_

_And what we had feared was now believed._

"God, what _is _this?" She laughs, pulling out another magazine from her bag.

"This, is award winning Gospel music. Not a fan?"

She laughs, and looks around the car before replying "Better than nothing."

She leans back in her seat, and I scratch at the dried sweat behind my neck. I won't dare touch my hair, the amount of oil in those strands... we wouldn't need the syphoner.

"Oh! I'm sure your friend will be missing _this _tonight."

I don't look back, as I figure she swiped another comic book from JJ's stash.

"A bit light on the reading, but it has some interesting photos."

I glance back to her in the rear view mirror, and see she is holding up an issue of 'Skins'. _Shit. That's a porno magazine, AND it's got a man on the front. That can only mean one thing..._

"Emily don't... That's not something you should-"

She holds the magazine open sideways, and a fold out drops from inside. "Woah!" She breaths, a wicked smile creeping up on her face.

"How..." She starts, examining the photo. "How the _hell _would you even walk around with one of those things?"

"Get rid of that-" I try to grab it from her, but she pulls it away.

"Now hold on a minute! I wanna see what all the fuss is about!"

I look back to the road as she examines the photo a bit more closely, before she starts to speak again.

"Uh, why are all these pages stuck together?"

_What the actual FUCK, JJ._

"Uhm..." I'm not quite sure what to say to her, and my mind races trying to find a coherent answer to her question. Luckily, she puts me out of my misery.

"I'm just fucking with you." She laughs, as she rolls the window down.

"Bye-bye, dude!" She shouts, as she throws the magazine out the window. I guess this was the best way for her to see the male anatomy... much better than giving JJ a pity shag or something. I can't complain about that.

;

;

The rain has stopped, and the sun has been planted firmly in the sky for about an hour now. Emily is in the passenger seat next to me, fast asleep. The drive has been quiet, but peaceful. And the amount of songs on that tape deck, let's just say I know the lyrics off by heart now. I start to see a big pile up of cars ahead, which is bad news. We've been travelling on the highways, because the side streets will attract unwanted attention. This isn't good.

"No, no no no..." I mumble, as Emily stirs awake next to me; yawning as she positions herself into a proper sitting position.

"Now what?" She asks, clearly still drowsy from her slumber.

I look behind me, at the vacant street we travelled on, as I try to come to a decision. I can't get through, but I don't know an alternate route through the city. The side streets are a breeding ground for the infected, not to mention other _people_.

There is no other option.

"Screw it."

I turn the wheel and take the off ramp, through the vacant streets below._ It doesn't take long for trouble to find us. _

A man staggers out into the open road ahead, holding his stomach where some blood has been splashed on it. I stop the car immediately, and Emily starts to panic. I can't show her my fear, but I am terrified. Why couldn't we just face another clicker? My worse fear has come true in this very moment, and I have to protect us. Whatever it takes.

"Holy shit... are we gonna help him?" I strap my seatbelt over my chest.

"Put your seatbelt on, Emily." I rev the engine and she does as I instructed, clicking the belt firmly into place. She is looking at me with pure panic, as I rev the engine again.

"Wha... what about the guy-"

"He isn't even hurt."

I slam my foot down on the gas pedal and aim straight for the man. In a split second, he pulls a gun out from his jacket and starts to fire bullets at us.

"Put your head down!" I shout, placing my hand behind her head. The bullets slam into the windshield causing large cracks to form in my line of sight. We hit the man, and he thumps below the Jeep as more men come out of the shadows, firing bullets at us.

"Jesus christ!" Emily screams, as I weave my way through the crowded street; trying to avoid the gunshots. Before I know what happens next, there is a bottle thrown at us and the hood of the Jeep erupts into flames. We start to fish tail, the screeching of the tires becoming louder with each second. I have lost control, as both of our windows get smashed with bullets.

"Hold on!" I shout, as we slam through the glass windows of an old Tesco's grocery store.

**I'm sorry! I know, I know; I suck. A huge cliff hanger, even AFTER Emily said how much she hates them. But, what can I say? I'm a little bold sometimes. Not like it's ever very smart of me. **

**So, did you catch the throwback to GTA San Andreas in there with the K-Rose radio station song choice? If you can't spot this shit, then... you're NOT cool enough :P I'll point out the other one too... Love Fist. Anyone remember? In Vice City, they're that British band you get drugs for at some point? (It's becoming clearer to me why I am single...)**

**Thanks for reading, guys. You are all fucking ace. Please let me know what you think? Don't make me remind you my game is still wrapped to get you to review... I hate guilt trips.**

**xoV**


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